The Substitutes
by Burningbridges
Summary: Ever wonder what would happen if RE characters were substituting for your school teachers? Just try to picture it. Yeah, didn't think you could.
1. Chapter 1

_Yet another crazy idea makes it to paper… Well, metaphorical paper. _

_This was started in somewhat the same fashion as "Swamp Tour Around the Pond". Old idea, new look at it. Back in my good old middle school days, my best friends and I would write a lot of stories about our teachers… And a lot of bad rap songs…Anyway, there was one in particular that I wrote for my history teacher about what would happen if James Otis (think American Revolution) was to sub for him. Reading that made me question what would happen if RE characters were to become substitute teachers…_

_And special thanks to Raven Thornheart – her review on 'Swamp Tour Around the Pond' is what initially got me inspired to write this story. _

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The Substitutes

By Burning Bridges

"I'm the sub of a sub who was

subbing for some one else."

a sub I had in 9th grade

It was a beautiful day on the mountain; the skies were blue, the foliage was green, and the sun was shining blindingly over the quaint structure of DDMS, a normal American middle school… parked in the middle of nowhere…

It had been warm and sunny for the past few weeks, which completely explained why half the staff had suddenly gone on vacation and left the Administrators to find a bunch of replacements, fast. And that meant only one thing…

Hire the cheapest, least qualified group of people and just throw them into classes… Hey, it works.

First Science Room in the F-Wing 

Wesker sat at the head of a seventh grade science class, his feet propped up on the teacher's desk as he leaned back in the chair and watched the students sitting there staring at him – or more likely, at his sunglasses. A ghost of a smile graced his serious features, probably unnoticed by the uneasy students. He was in control, and man, did he love that feeling!

When a student slowly raised his hand, Wesker chose to ignore him for a while, until the kid decided to use his other hand to hold up his now tired arm.

"What is it?" he asked tetchily, and the kid responded in an apathetic tone.

"Are we going to do anything today?"

"Yeah, I have something for you to do. Shut the fuck up."

He enjoyed the peace for a few more minutes before it started to get on his nerves.

"Anything you can do, I can do better. I can do anything better than you…" he sang to himself quietly.

Another student raised their hand.

"Now what?" he barked.

"Jon is staring at me, and it's getting annoying."

"I'm not staring at you, asshole."

"Yeah, you are, fuck face!"

"Get bent!"

"Well, this is interesting," Wesker said happily, watching the fistfight that ensued with utter amusement.

Meanwhile, In the Art Class Down the Hall and Around the Corner… 

The kids sat in horror, staring at their sub like he'd just crawled off of a table in a shutdown laboratory.

Nemesis growled at the computer, hitting buttons on the keyboard in a vain attempt to take attendance. When the computer suddenly marked all the students absent, he roared, hoisting the monitor up and hurling it through the door and into the wall. He then ran out after chucking the tower, stomping on and punching the pile of broken technology.

When he came back in, the students looked more terrified than they originally were. He walked up to the chalkboard, picking up a piece of chalk and breaking it by accident. He picked up a smaller piece with an annoyed growl, and very slowly wrote his name on the board.

"Um… What does it say?" one kid asked.

"It looks like 'Hamish'." Nemesis shook his head.

"No it doesn't, it looks like 'Veemers'. Or 'Nimus'." Nemesis shook his head harder, trying to write his name more neatly.

"Nexosil?"

Nemesis roared, tearing the teacher's desk apart looking for a dictionary. When he didn't find one, he ran back out into the hall, this time heading for another room.

In the Gym 

"I am Carlos, and he is Leon. And we're going to be your substitute gym teachers today." The students stared at them blankly. "You know… Saturday Night Live… 'I am Hans and he is Franz'… Guess not…"

"Wait… Carlos… Leon… Wasn't he that guy Madonna screwed?" one of the kids asked, and the two just gave each other weird looks.

"You don't think that this is some kind of conspiracy, do you?" Leon asked, and Carlos just laughed.

"You're kidding me."

"No. I'm serious." Leon looked around the gym at the cameras on the ceiling.

"Well… Maybe that's possible, but not probable. It is really weird."

"Come on; let's take the kids and try to find out why it happened, Carlos."

"Leon, I seriously doubt there's any conspiracy."

"But you can't be sure!"

"… Fine. Let's go."

A Room Down the Stairs in the G-Wing 

Jill read through the teacher's instructions really quick, and thought to herself that this would be seriously easy. They were studying "Shane", and although she had never read it, she had printed a summary up from the Internet and perused through it a couple times. While the students were taking a pop quiz on the ranchers vs. the homesteaders, she went through the teacher's supply closet, finding a fuzzy, warm shawl (which was great because the room was freezing cold and she was wearing her blue tube top) and a pomegranate.

She strolled out into the hall, eating the pomegranate, and observing the English class across the hall. The man who taught it, a somewhat fat guy who told jokes all the time, but didn't seem to enthusiastic about his students, had just set the kids to work on defining words with little calculator-like electronic dictionaries. Not to her surprise, though, they kids weren't actually working. Some of them were laughing about typing profane words, while yet another group was making fun of a kid whose name came up as meaning 'antichrist'…

The teacher came out into the hall, smiling at her. "Spring has sprung, the grass has ris', I wonder where the birdies is," he said and she just grinned politely, secretly wishing she could roll her eyes and punch him.

"First day as a substitute?" he asked, and she nodded, swallowing a mouthful of pomegranate.

"Yeah, it is."

"How do you like it so far? Kids can be really tough sometimes, you know."

"I like it," she said, "It's a nice alternative to my old job."

"What was your old job?"

"Special Tactics And Rescue Service officer," she said, watching in near-shock as Nemesis came running down the stairs towards them.

"Sounds like it was pretty interesting to me. My old job was being a teacher in Colorado. There was only one time I remember they closed school for snow, and that was when it snowed seven feet…"

"S.T.A.R.S.!" Nemesis exclaimed, coming up to her and pointing towards her classroom.

"Um… You want to go in?"

He nodded furiously.

"Okay… What, do you need something? Just be quiet, my kids are testing."

He roared his gratitude, and went stomping in, half-tearing the room apart looking for something.

"What was that?" the man asked, momentarily taking his eyes off of her to watch a book fly through the air into the back wall of the classroom.

"One of Umbrella's experiments. He's actually quite nice when you get to know him."

"Right…"

Nemesis came out of the room, held up the dictionary happily and ran back down the hall and up the stairs.

"So, if you're not doing anything Friday night, would you like to get some coffee together?" he asked.

Next Door to Jill's Room 

Nicholai sat in the back of the room, watching the students go up one by one and present their history reports, followed by an explanation of what they thought went well in their presentations and what didn't. He wasn't finding this to be particularly interesting, and as much as he'd like ('like' being a relative term) to pay attention he was getting rather bored… And longing to play a game of Russian roulette.

The present student was up there reading her evaluation of her project. All of the other students had liked her speech, but she apparently begged to differ.

"I had difficulties with just about everything. I didn't get my speech done on time so I had to write a fast one during class. I had some problems explaining what gender discrimination was. I mean, besides the fact it was hard to describe. I think my report stunk, rotted, bombed, crashed and burned, et cetera. Anyway, I can't say much else. It was horrible. I don't care what the others say. I could have taken more than ten minutes to write a speech and do a good one. I mean, I didn't give all the information I could have. I summarized what I could remember, besides the fact that I really don't find Sally Ride to be a good subject or interesting. Of course, she can't help the fact that I find space exploration boring to the point where you want to scream. I think I could improve on the whole thing even though I'd probably die of boredom trying to do it again. It is hard to put into words what I would or could try to say. I mean really, it was like a boring subject. Let me just say everyone was bored out of their skulls. I could have more fun cleaning a toilet with my tongue."

"That can be arranged," he said, "You're being too critical. Go sort out your self-esteem issues elsewhere."

"What do we do now? Everybody's done," a kid asked as she sat back down, and Nicholai just shrugged.

"I don't know. Let me think a while."

"Where are you from? Austria?" someone asked, and he glared at them.

"No," he said slowly. "I'm Russian."

"Are you sure? You're not from Georgia and you just think you're Russian?"

"No!"

"Are you a Soviet?"

"Why should I tell you?"

"Why are you answering a question with a question?"

"Fuck off, you little bastard!" he shouted, just about ready to throw the kid out the window.

In a Room Near the Lobby 

Chris stood in the front of the room, cluelessly staring at the quadratic equation he'd just written on the board. "Um…"

"Are you sure you should be subbing for an advanced math class?" one student asked, and Chris laughed nervously.

"Yeah, of course. Now, uh… Subtract this from that, maybe?… And divide this number by that little number on top?"

"I don't think he knows what he's doing…" someone whispered, and Chris took on a defensive tone.

"I do too!"

"When was the last time you did math?" another kid asked.

"Um…" Chris said slowly, "… I don't know… I do math all the time!"

"Then what's the square root of 144?"

"Well…"

"9x5?"

"Yeah… Uh…"

In a Highly Secluded Room Just Past the First of the Bathrooms 

Barry didn't understand how someone could ever teach this class… It was one thing talking about sex amongst yourselves, but completely another to be chatting with kids about it. And one day he'd have to talk to his own daughters about it…

He shuddered at the thought, and cleared his throat in an attempt to get the attention of the uninterested students.

"Um… I'm supposed to show you a movie… Do you think you can take it seriously?"

No one said anything.

"Hello, anyone paying attention?"

Once again, no reply. Some of them appeared to be paying attention, despite their silence, while others were involved in writing things or defacing property… And one appeared to be getting high off of whiteout. He sighed, going over to the TV and putting the video in the VCR.

"This movie's about STDs – Sexually Transmitted Diseases. I'd advise you to pay close attention if you'd like to avoid getting any when you… Well… You know…"

He hit play and then walked over to the lights, turning them off, and wandering back to the desk at the head of the room. The students seemed to take more notice once he had stopped talking, and were now at least looking in the direction of the TV. A creepy voice came on as the video commenced.

"Hello, this is Vincent Price. Today I'm here to talk to you about STDs, and how much they can ruin your life, as well as your sexual experiences. MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Barry raised an eyebrow at that statement, deciding he didn't exactly want to stick around for this. He got up and went out into the hall, closing the door behind him. They wouldn't get up to anything… He hoped…

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I've been working on WAY too many RE music videos… They've warped my already twisted mind…There will be more – I wanted to write about more people and more classes, but this installment was getting a little long. So I'm splitting it up, which is good for you 'cause that means more to laugh about.

All of the classes are based on classes I did have… Except the STD movie I had to watch was a lot less interesting… Poor Barry…

The woman Jill is subbing for was a teacher of mine in 8th grade, as was the man hitting on her, the year before. That guy was weird… He didn't seem to like us, but he was always telling us jokes… And as far as I know, he still lives alone with his dog in my community. Wesker on the other hand, is subbing for my 7th grade science teacher – an ex-drill sergeant who really liked skulls.

_I would've done a bit more with Wesker… I'm just having a bit of trouble getting into his head right now – so if you have any suggestions for him, please suggest away!_

_Now if you will, please take a moment to leave me a review and let me know how I'm doing so far – and anything Wesker might get a kick out of doing in this realm of insanity. _


	2. Chapter 2

Part two, more people, old people, plot comes together some more…It's all good! Sorry… I just had to say that… I'm dying for coffee and ramen, and it's affecting my brain… And such is why everyone appears to still be alive in this story… Well, more charries for me to use! – Maybe all of them, in fact… 

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Chapter Two

In the Art Class Down the Hall and Around the Corner From Wesker's Room 

Nemesis stomped back into the room, flipping through the red dictionary and tearing out several pages at a time until he found what he was looking for. One kid looked at him inquisitively as the monster stuck the book in his face and pointed to a specific page.

"Um… What is it?"

He turned the book back to himself, and slowly drug his finger down the page until it met with the definition. The kid looked at the page carefully.

"Neme… Nemesis?"

He roared triumphantly, slamming the book shut and tossing it out the door, going to the blackboard and pointing to his sloppy writing.

"Oh! Your name is Nemesis!" the kid said, and he nodded, starting to rifle through drawers all around the room.

They sat in silence for a while, watching him get his bearings as to what was where. They had virtually no clue what he had in mind until he held up a fistful of acrylic paint tubes and a canvas that their teacher had been painting a portrait of the assistant principal on.

"We're going to paint?" a little girl asked.

Nemesis twisted the cap off of a tube, and slathered crimson paint across the portrait with satisfaction.

It wasn't long before the assistant principal came barging into the art class with his arms crossed, being followed by Bill Gates who stopped outside of the door, staring in shock at the destroyed Gateway.

"What in the world is going on in here!" the fat red-headed assistant principal barked, glaring around the room at all the students and then to Nemesis. "How did the computer get damaged? AND WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY PORTRAIT!"

Nemesis just growled and started towards the fat man like he was Chester Cheetah after a bag of Cheetos.

In the Spanish Class Near the Art Room 

"Hola, Senor Mendez," the class said rather unenthusiastically.

The seven-foot-tall man smiled slightly, pacing back and forth in front of the room a few times while he thought, trying to piece together the plan of attack for the day. A lot of kids, if not the whole class, gazed at him curiously, probably because he was a giant and had a hideous glass eye. He chuckled to himself for no particular reason, and then stopped walking back and forth to speak.

"Have any of you ever heard about a Spanish cult – err - religious sect, called 'Los Illuminados'?"

They all shook their heads.

"Then that's what we'll learn about today." He smiled to himself, twiddling his beard deviously. "Now all I need is a test subject…"

In the French Class Downstairs 

"I wont lie to you – I'm not the greatest French-speaker…" Brad said, crossing his arms and sighing. "You're on your own."

"See? I told you this school was cheap!" one student named Robert, probably the oldest of the group, said to another.

"This school is creating a race of morons!"

"Not exactly… It was rated number three of the best on the East Coast."

"Yeah – best for selling heroine and teaching future mafia members!"

"Okay, class; that's enough," Brad said quietly, paging through a French magazine on the teacher's desk to suppress his boredom. "I don't know what you should be doing, so…"

"We normally start with the daily routine."

"And that would be…?"

"Good morning, how are you today, what time is it, and what is the weather like?"

Brad covered his eyes in dread. "Oh, jeez… Well, I'll ask in English, you can answer in French… Good morning, class."

"Bonjour, Monsieur."

"How are you today?"

"Très bien, merci. Et vous?"

"Was that a question? Oh well. What time is it? – No, forget that one, we can all read the clock. What's the weather like?"

"Le crap," the oldest student, Robert, said.

"Can we watch a movie?" someone asked and Brad looked thoughtfully at a badly drawn poster of Marie Antoinette behind him.

"Uh, sure. Anything specific?" he asked going to the teacher's supply closet.

"The one about time!"

"Time?" Brad said, as the class agreed they should watch 'the one about time'. "What's it called?"

"I think it's _'Quelle heure est il'_," a student said, and Brad scratched his head in a bewildered manner.

"Can you… Spell that?"

Suddenly, Robert began to run around screaming that someone stole his napkin. Brad just backed up into a corner and watched in shock.

The Room Next Door to the French Class 

Mr. Lucan, the ever-pissy German teacher who hadn't taken off like the rest of the normal staff, heard the commotion in the French class next door and, of course, felt a desperate need to hassle the substitute about it. He left his class without saying a word, most of the students looking up from their work in wonder as to where he was going. He stepped into the doorway and asked gruffly, "What is going on over here?"

Before he could answer, the towering form of Mendez came up behind Mr. Lucan, and Brad let out a squeak of alarm before diving behind the teacher's desk.

"Is there a problem?" the gargantuan man asked the unfazed German teacher, and received a rather impolite glare.

"There is a racket coming from in this French class. It has to stop."

"I can help you with that," Mendez said, pushing him aside, and going in. With very little effort at all, he picked up the still-ranting Robert, and carried him off by the throat.

"Hey!" Brad shouted, still hiding behind the desk, "You can't just cart off my student!"

"Are you going to do something about it?" one of the kids asked, sounding a tad concerned.

"Um… In a minute…"

In a Dark Room Hidden Somewhere In the Office 

Leon rifled through folders with both hands, holding the flashlight precariously against his shoulder with his head, while Carlos was (against his good judgment) looking through the students' permanent records at their request. He was about to give up and tell them to do it themselves, when Leon piped up excitedly.

"Hey, Carlos! I found something!" he held up a manila folder that had been labeled with big red letters. "It says 'Read and Die: School District Conspiracies'!"

Carlos sighed exasperatedly. "Wow, it's so inconspicuous."

Leon opened it and found a list. "Let's see… The elementary schools seem to have some kind of hit-man service going… The primary school is utilizing child labor to make those stupid America Online disks… The high school's assistant principal is trying to take over the world… Ah – here we are! Middle school – getting kids into drugs and the mafia, and … Aww, the last part's been ripped off… I wonder where it is."

"Great. Who the heck could have taken off with it?" Carlos groaned.

Meanwhile, in Wesker's Science class:

"Ha ha ha! This is great – kinda lame, but great!" Wesker said to himself, stuffing the last part of a school conspiracies list (reading 'Hire people with unassuming first names, and then put them together to form names of famous people from the last century') into his pocket. "Now I can play mind games with those two clowns!"

In the Next Room Over from Wesker's 

William Birkin sat at the desk, working quietly on mixing different vials together, scribbling down equations, and paging through reference books. He was supposed to be teaching about kinetics, 'to the best of his ability' as stated by the principal, but he wasn't interested. And he wasn't about to invest energy in anything he didn't want to.

Somehow, in the absence of his attention, the students had started mixing different solutions together and were daring each other to drink them, while others were tossing cornstarch at each other.

Despite his lack of interest in what was going on, he was getting just slightly peeved that cornstarch was getting all over the teacher's desk… And himself. Right when the urge to tell everyone to "be silent" kicked in, the phone rang.

He stared at it, then after about two minutes, he answered.

"Hello?"

"Will, it's me Albert."

"Nice of you to ring, Albert. But you're right next door."

"I know, it's just that I'm watching a couple of kids beat each other to a bloody pulp, and I can't leave the room under those circumstances."

"Why don't you break it up?"

"Eh… It's not worth the effort… They'll wear themselves out soon enough."

"Right." Birkin stared at a crack in the ceiling, while toying with a vial impatiently. He was wishing that his students would resort to killing each other, so he could be alone.

"Hey, what's that white stuff all over you?"

William looked at the powdery patches all over himself, and then peered out into the hall to see Wesker with his head just outside of the door, waving at him stupidly. He must have been really bored over there, with the fight going on.

"Cornstarch," Birkin moaned, and he could swear Wesker was holding back a laugh.

"I won't ask," he said, "But if you need any help let me know. What the hell?"

"Something wrong, Albert?"

"No. Bitores just walked by with some kid in a death grip…"

"Almost certainly going to utilize him as a subject for experimentation."

There was a sudden shout of "Go to hell, motherfucker!" both next door and over the phone. Birkin frowned.

"I assume they're still fighting?" he asked.

"Yeah. Sorry, Will, but I think I should go now." Wesker hung up, and there was a loud clatter next door as well as some muffled shouting, and it sounded like the pandemonium had come to a halt. It seemed like everything was going to be fairly acceptable… But not for long, since Brad came running by from the direction of Bitores's room, screaming and being chased by people with pitchforks.

"I SAID YOU COULD KEEP HIM! DON'T HURT ME!" he shrieked, and ran down the stairs, still being pursued by angry farmers.

Birkin put his head down on the desk, wishing he could die. Then he'd get some peace.

In the Home EC Room Just Past the Library 

Ashley was busy going over how to make an apple pie, while her students were slightly distracted by the sound of a chainsaw being revved next door. She just tried to ignore it, pretending that chainsaws were just tools for cutting wood, not taking people's heads off. Shuddering, she continued the lecture.

"Now, since we don't have any actual apples, or the time to peel them all, we'll be using canned apples." She set an open can down on one student's desk, and raised an eyebrow when he started sniffing it.

"You can smell the artificial flavoring!" he said happily, and she proceeded to take the can away and put it on the teacher's desk.

"Anyway… You have your recipes, now if you'll go over to the kitchen and get into your groups, you can start making your pie."

The students got up and slowly went over to the other side of the room in a subdued manner. Ashley had already set out everything for them so they didn't need her right off the bat. She looked at some papers on her desk, not really paying as much attention to them as she was the chainsaw going next door.

What the hell was going on over there?

She wandered back and forth along the front of the room, trying to block it out by reading the names of fruits off of posters in the back. "Apple, Pear, Banana, Orange, Kumquat, Nectarine, Peach, Grapes, Kiwi, Star fruit, Strawberries, Blueberries, Raspberries, Gooseberries, Blackcaps, Watermelon, Honeydew, Cantaloupe, Coconut…"

The chainsaw revved and she stopped, starting to feel anxious. Maybe if she just saw what they were doing…

Ashley walked a few yards down the hall unhurriedly, telling herself that it was all in her mind and there was nothing to be scared of. At the door, she cautiously entered, looking around for the source of the sound. It looked like everyone had assembled in the woodshop area, where they were all gathered around a guy that looked vaguely familiar somehow…

She got a little closer to them, watching the vaguely familiar guy cutting 2x4s with his chainsaw. When he turned around to face the class, he saw he standing in the middle of the room and started to come at her quickly.

"Not again!" she screamed running for the door and being followed by the seemingly irked Dr. Salvador. She ran past the room, to the end of the hall, where she figured that she might be safer hiding in the girl's bathroom through some power of school rules…

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And it goes on… CHEETOS! Thanks to my sister for that bit about Cheetos – she had a dream the other night that Nemesis went to school with us and obsessed over anything cheesy… And a little factoid about my school district – the number one drug sold in this area, according the local police, is heroine; and this county is the most heavily mafia-populated county in my state. Another factoid – Brad doesn't make a very good French sub.

Hope ya like the school district conspiracies. I actually was writing a story about the assistant principal of my high school taking over the world, until I graduated. I'll have to go back and finish that… Oh, and I'll include more on what happened to the charries in chapter one next time – it's going to be fun. And you'll get to find out what Wesker did after hanging up the phone.

Well, another chapter down. How many more depends on you guys! Leave a review and let me know what you think, or any ideas you have! All is welcome. 


	3. Chapter 3

_To those of you who asked for more, wish granted. Long-live Burning Bridges!_

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Chapter Three

In the Nurse's Office 

"I have an excellent idea… and all it involves is an injection."

"Can't I just lay down or something? All that's wrong is my stomach hurts…" the kid said, giving Lord Saddler a funny look.

"Oh come now, this will be a lot better for you than resting. Trust me; I am the substitute nurse, after all."

"I didn't think nurse's had substitutes…"

"Fine, I'm her 'stand-in', do you like that better?" he said harshly.

"Yeah, I think I do," the kid replied ponderingly.

"Whatever. Anyway, I want to give you awesome power."

"What are you talking about?" the kid said, his already confused expression getting even more so.

"I'm the leader of a wonderful group of people who will revolutionize life as you know it."

"Um… Okay. And?"

"And in order to do that, we have to share our gift with the world."

"And that would be?"

"We have to go around injecting everyone with a parasite that basically makes you annoyingly hard to kill, and, better yet, highly dangerous."

"The downside?"

"It takes over your body, alters your personality, and can kill you if you try to remove it."

"Eh, I've had a good like so far, hit me up."

"Seriously? You're not going to refuse, try to call law enforcement, so that I have to abduct you and inject you anyway?"

"Nope."

"Well, people up here really are crazy – I mean – smart."

In Wesker's Room 

Wesker had successfully scared the fighting kids into ending their quarrel by hurling a random student into the trashcan on the other side of the room.

"That's enough," he said bad-temperedly, "Anyone want to challenge me on that decision?"

When no one answered, he smiled. "Good."

He took liberty of the sudden peace to re-seat himself at the teacher's desk, pondering what he should do next to pass the time. In his thinking, he made a sudden realization.

"Wait a minute… I haven't tried to kill Chris in ages!" He stood up again and went to the door, turning back to the class and giving them a glare. "If anyone so much as moves an inch, you're all dead."

Satisfied that that would keep them under control, he left the science class without another word.

By Barry's Highly Secluded Room 

Barry was leaning against the wall in the hallway, looking around at hideous posters bearing images of the some rat-faced squinting guy with the slogan 'Vote High School Assistant Principal for World Dictator This November' and wondering why he'd only seen them in this one hall. He peered into the room to make sure the students were still paying attention to the STD film, and was almost certain they were… Despite the fact that most of them weren't actually looking at the screen, and seemed to be placing bids on a bag of a flour-like substance.

He was about to go in and see what they were doing when there was a shout of 'HELP!' somewhere nearby, and Brad limped around the corner.

"Barry, please help me!" he whimpered, trying to pick up his pace.

"What happened?" Barry asked, "How'd you get injured?"

"They're trying to KILL me!" Brad said, and Barry just nodded in comprehension.

"I'll take care of it. Watch the class for me." He shoved Brad into the room where he hit the floor with a painful sounding thud, and went towards the main hall, where a bunch of creepy pale dudes with red eyes were hanging out with lots of sharp objects. "Hey everybody, what's the problem?"

One guy, holding what appeared to be a pickaxe, shouted something in Spanish.

"I assume you're looking for someone."

The guy started shouting again, this time waving his hands around wildly in an attempt to convey the height and features of a certain someone that they didn't seem to be too happy with. Barry pretended to understand what the guy was trying to tell him and that he hadn't just gotten whacked upside the head with the pickaxe during the villager-guy's rant.

"Okay, okay… Well, I haven't seen anyone like that around here, sorry."

The guy gave a gratified nod, and pointed his crew in another direction. Barry went back to the room in a hurry, and turned the lights on before he knelt beside the wounded Brad.

"You'll be alright, they're gone now."

Brad didn't answer. He was more interested in the gashes and punctures all over his aching body.

"So, why were you being assaulted by angry Spanish villagers?" Barry asked, examining one of the pitchfork wounds with slight revulsion.

"I was trying to get one of my students back from Mendez," he said, "Would you stop touching that!"

"Right," Barry responded, ceasing his poking of the puncture wound, "You need medical attention, Brad. I'll call the school nurse."

A few minutes later, none other than Osmund Saddler strolled in, surveying the class with some form of delight that could only be from him picturing all of them as Ganados. "So, what seems to be the problem?" he asked, a smile gracing his features as he laid eyes on the injured Brad.

"Well, Nurse Saddler - "

"Nurse-LORD Saddler," Saddler corrected.

"Yeah, Nurse-Lord Saddler… He was attacked by village people."

"Village people? As in The Village People?"

"No, no. Village people as in crazy farmers."

"Ah," he murmured, "I can take care of that. I'll just need to give you an injection, and -"

"WHAT! NO WAY!" Brad said, getting to his feet faster than any person attacked by farmers normally would.

"Calm down, Brad. He just wants to help you," Barry tried to reassure him.

"Yes, 'help' you. It'll be right in the side of your neck, you'll never even feel it," he said, then adding under his breath, "… Until they take over your brain…"

"NO POSSIBLE WAY IN THIS WORLD ARE YOU GIVING ME ANY KIND OF SHOT!"

"In this world, huh? What about on the planet Gerai?" Saddler asked, his sly smile scaring Brad half to death.

"NOWHERE!"

"I can easily take you to the Middle of Nowhere."

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" Brad screamed, limping very quickly out of the room with Saddler and Barry following him.

"Brad, it'll be fine! Just let Nurse-Lord Saddler take care of you!"

In a Room Around the Corner from Wesker's 

Jack Krauser stood at the head of the class, staring at the word D.A.R.E. on the blackboard blankly. He had no clue exactly what he was supposed to be talking about, and was slowly getting annoyed by the fact that the students were staring at his scar, and that no one was talking at all. The only sound in the whole hallway was of a class nearby singing 'The Sound of Silence'.

"What do you normally talk about in this class?" he asked austerely, trying to break the silence.

"Drugs," one kid offered.

"And jail," said another.

"… And?" Jack was hoping this would go somewhere.

"Well, our normal D.A.R.E. teacher talks a lot about what would happen if a guard wanted to watch the Teletubbies and the prisoners objected…"

Jack was wishing fervently for his death at this point. He was about to declare this class officially hopeless and a waste of his time, when the last person he wanted to see right now came in, looking desperately lost.

"Krauser, have you seen part of a School Conspiracies List lying around anywhere?" Leon asked.

"No," he answered simply.

"You're sure?"

"Certain."

"Totally positive?"

"Yes, now go the hell away – I'm trying to teach!"

"Doesn't look much like it…" Leon said, dodging the knife that Jack threw and watching it bounce off the concrete wall, onto the floor.

"That's because I'm trying to collect my thoughts."

"On drugs and jail? That should be really easy for someone like you."

"What are you implying?"

"Nothing, Scar Face, just that you shouldn't need to think much to teach this class."

"Come here, Leon," Jack said, very, very seriously; serious enough to make a clown cry.

"Um… What for?"

"You just called me Scar Face, what the hell do you think for?"

"No," Leon said, starting to back away out the door.

"Here, Kennedy, now!"

"No thanks!" Leon said, starting to run down the hall, Jack running out the door right after him.

"Get back here right now, and fight like a man!"

In Chris' Room Near the Lobby 

"Okay, well, I've consulted the textbook, and I think I can finally do this properly…" Chris said with what dignity he had left. "Exponents, alright…"

He set to work trying to solve the problem he had just written, and a few minutes later, this hadn't amounted to much more than a few scribbles here and there, surrounding a horrible rendition of Jill as the Mona Lisa. "Hm…" he said, stepping back and looking at it, "What do you think?"

"I think this isn't art class," one student said, and Chris sighed in defeat.

"Okay, okay, so I'm not the best at math after all these years. Who's actually going to use this stuff when they go out into the world?"

"Bankers, Scientists, Medical professionals…" one student said, and Chris perked up a little.

"Scientists, eh? I'll be back in a flash." Chris left the room in a hurry, not bothering to tell his students where he was heading.

A moment after he left, Wesker popped in, disappointed not to see the guy he wanted to kill anywhere. "Where's Chris?"

"Mr. Redfield just ran out, but he didn't say where to."

"Damn it… I'll get that bastard yet…" Wesker ran out and a moment later Chris came back in, dragging a completely bewildered Birkin behind him.

"I need help figuring that out." Chris pointed to the problem, and Birkin just stared at it, the situation still not registering fully due to the shock of being pulled away from his work to explain math to the clueless Redfield. When he finally started to explain, Wesker came running back into the room.

"Birkin? What are you doing here?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Elucidating exponents to this obtuse annoyance," he responded, and Wesker looked over at Chris, switching into evil mode.

"Chris, I'm here to kill you once and for all. There's no escaping your fate this time."

"I doubt that," Chris said matter-of-factly, "You haven't succeeded in any attempts to kill me. What makes you think this will be different?"

"Because I'll kill Jill and Claire first."

"Doubt it."

"What do you mean 'doubt it'!"

"Because, if you haven't noticed, we're all still alive. And a killer doesn't inform someone that he's going to kill them before he tries."

"Shut up, I know what I'm doing!"

"What do you think, Birkin?" Chris asked, but Birkin only glared at him. "Still doubt it."

Wesker was on the verge of a breakdown. "I'll be back with the ultimate murder plan, you'll see! Come on, Will." The two of them stormed out of the room, and Chris just watched with sheer satisfaction.

"Doubt it."

In a Nearly Impossible to Find Room Past the Library 

Claire and Rebecca were trying to teach the music class about picking out details in music, but didn't know where to start. Rebecca was busy looking through the CD collection that had been safely stored in the filing cabinet, while Claire tried to find out exactly what the class had been doing up until now.

"Your teacher didn't leave any details as to what we were supposed to have you do, so please bear with us."

"Well, we've been working on listening to music and talking about it a lot lately," one student said.

"Really," Rebecca said, "Doesn't sound so interesting."

"I have an idea that would probably be a lot more fun than that…" Claire said, a devious grin spreading across her face. "Field trip!"

"To where?" someone asked, speaking for the whole class.

"Well… Somewhere inside the school, I suppose… Why don't we walk around the library?"

No one responded.

"Okay, come on, everyone. Let's go to the library. That's bound to be interesting!"

The class had gone ahead of them, leaving the two women to wander down the hall at their own pace. They had gotten no farther than the end of the hall when a terrified Ashley came running up to them. "He's after me!"

"Who's after you?" Rebecca asked, totally clueless, despite the fact that Dr. Salvador had just rounded the corner, and was coming at them with his chainsaw.

"Um… Maybe we should hide… I know, in the auditorium!" Claire suggested.

The auditorium was only a little ways down the hall. They managed to get there before Dr. Salvador had seen where they were heading (let's face it, he doesn't run so fast), and closed the large oak doors tightly behind them. What they weren't counting on, was that someone was already using the auditorium.

"Repeat that, please, with a little more emotion," someone said, and a kid responded.

"'Mad' call I it, for, to define true madness, what is 't but to be nothing else but mad?

But let that go."

"Close enough," the person muttered, "Now the Queen."

"More matter with less art," a girl said, and the kid answered defensively.

"Madame, I swear I use no art at all. That he's mad, 'tis true; 'tis true 'tis pity, and pity 'tis 'tis true, a foolish figure, but farewell it for I will use no art. Mad let us grant him then - "

"No! That's not emotional enough!" the person complained, and Ashley turned to Rebecca. "Who is that whining?"

There was no time to answer as Dr. Salvador decided the best entrance would be to cut the doors down. The three women ran down the aisle, evading drama students as they went, with Dr. Salvador trailing somewhere behind them.

"You're telling the Queen that her son is insane, get the mood right!" Alfred was saying to one of his students. When he noticed the four intruders, he got very upset. "How dare you interrupt my class!"

The three women ignored him, trying to find the stage exit, while Dr. Salvador seemed intrigued by the fact that some over-emotional cross-dresser was suddenly in his face. He tried to take a step past him, being more interested in killing Ashley than listening to this dude gripe, but Alfred blocked him, not finished berating him yet, seeing as it was him who chased the ladies in there in the first place.

"There has to be a door here somewhere…" Claire said quietly, desperately searching behind the red drapes for any exit signs.

To be continued…

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'Elucidating exponents to this obtuse annoyance'; in the words of my English teacher, I put big words together and know what they mean! Nurse-Lord Saddler, man… Creepy. This chapter was weird for me, because somehow I ended up doing a lot of RE4… Maybe because I've been playing it obsessively, and because Nonliving-Nightmare and I are writing a self-insert fic.

Poor, poor Brad… I kinda used myself for inspiration with that one – I don't run screaming, but I have had a tendency to turn down anesthetic during small surgeries; bad idea. And Alfred… Don't ask. I wanted to go for something he might be good at, and drama seemed like the answer. All the lines the students are reciting are from Hamlet (my favorite Shakespeare work), when Polonius was telling Queen Gertrude that Hamlet's insane (my favorite part)… seemed appropriate for Alfred.

Well, leave me a review, and maybe a cup of coffee, and tell me what you think! I'll be back with more next week!


	4. Chapter 4

_First off, I'd like to thank all of you who've reviewed; REfreak, C0me as y0u are, Jamie Gartland, Roxas16, T-B.O.W., Xmaster, and my friend Nonliving-Nightmare (I also really enjoy his stories!) – this is, by far, my most popular story, and I'm glad it's loved! Your support makes my day! And I will get around to incorporating those suggestions in somewhere, just bear with me. I might be smart, but I tend to work slowly for perfection._

_I'm sorry that it took me a bit to update… I've been on the writer's-blocked side lately, trying to figure out what I'm going to do about college, and I just haven't been in the mood to write any parody/satire type stuff… That and I got sidetracked with reinventing my old hobby of making music videos… As well as putting lots of effort into my first self-insert fic in ages – "RE4: Crazy Doesn't Begin to Describe It", co-written with Nonliving-Nightmare. Check it out; it's not half bad, people!_

_Now, onto the tale…_

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Chapter Four

**In Nicholai's Room**

Nicholai really felt like killing someone right now, but, thinking better of it, sat back down and covered his eyes with one hand, trying to calm down. They'd all get what was coming to them eventually. "No more questions…"

The class talked amongst themselves quietly, until this really creepy-looking squinting guy with an Afro wig came in, wearing a purple shirt and a red cape. He looked around slowly, until his eyes met with the bewildered Nicholai sitting at the teacher's desk.

"You're that Supervisor guy, Ginovaef, correct? You do know what I'm referring to, I imagine?" he said rather impatiently.

"Yes, I know what you're trying to convey, and yes, I am that supervisor," he said, having no clue how this guy knew that, or, for that matter, actually caring. He was like that; a person who could easily meet the requirements to be called a 'psychopath', due to his emotionally detached state.

The guy smiled, a really annoying type of smile. "I'd like your help eliminating various problems that have come up in this district. I'll make it worth your while, if you do."

Nicholai considered this offer. This meant he could probably get away from these exasperating kids, and maybe even kill someone, making some dough while he did. Sounded pretty good to him. "What sort of problem are you experiencing?" he asked out of curiosity.

"Will that stop you from working for me?" the guy asked, and Nicholai shook his head.

"Nyet."

"Okay, well, some of the staff have been running around trying to prevent me from gaining more power as the assistant principal of the high school yonder… And as world dictator."

"Sounds easy," Nicholai replied, and the guy seemed thrilled.

"Good, good. And by the way, no matter what you hear about me, my name is not Numb-Nuts. It's Mark."

**By Jill's Room**

"Uh… As nice as that sounds, I think I'm busy that night…" Jill said, thinking that a date with this English teacher would probably be about as interesting as watching someone run around in circles while their head melted. Actually, that sounded worthy of note.

"Oh, well, maybe some other time," he smiled, taking a quick glance back at his class, which was still occupied with looking up every single word they hadn't been assigned. "How long will you be subbing?"

"I don't know. It depends on when the teacher comes back from her vacation in the Arklay Mountains." She shuddered, remembering what went on up there.

"She left one mountain to go to another? I could get in on that," the teacher said, looking thoughtfully at the ceiling.

Jill nodded, though she didn't agree at all, and then something crossed her mind that she'd been wondering about for a long time. "Hey, just between you and me… Is it true that everyone in this individual county of this particular state, is crazy?"

"Sorry, but being a citizen of this state, a tax payer and a voter, I can't answer that question. The local government wouldn't like it too much."

Jill didn't know whether to laugh or feel slightly threatened by that statement. "Couldn't you just give me your opinion?"

"Nope. Once again, if it pertains to the people here being crazy, I can't say it. The Psychiatric Police will come."

"What are you talking about?" she said, taking a step back and looking at him like he was high on LSD.

"Nothing."

There was a loud sound somewhere overhead, and a whole bunch of guys in white lab coats came running down the stairs melodramatically.

"We're the Psychiatric Police," one of them said in an authorative tone. "Which one of you was talking about the 'everyone is crazy up here' rumor?"

"He was," Jill said quickly, pointing at the English teacher.

"And it's not the 'everyone is crazy up here' rumor. It's the 'everyone here is crazy' rumor – it only pertains to this specific area, not the whole upper part of the east coast, or the state in general," the English teacher corrected, and he received a dirty look from the guy who had spoken before.

"You know no one's allowed to talk about that. I'm going to have to give you a fine. Next time, I'll be taking you in – to the institution, that is."

Jill turned away from the large group of mental cases she was in the company of, and slowly walked back into her classroom, closed the door, and sat back down at the teacher's desk, questioning if she'd be put on an anti-psychotic drug after telling some people back home about this.

**In the Auditorium**

Dr. Salvador was a quiet man, which should be obvious since he virtually never talked, or made much of any sound in general. Anyway, he was a quiet man, reserved, and in his mind, rather venerated in the Spanish community. But here, on this horrible little mountain, people really liked to push his buttons. He couldn't help it if he was kind of different from everyone else… Or the fact that he could hold a grudge against anyone who happened to know a certain blond American with a bomber jacket… And yet, everyone here seriously pissed him off, in one way or another.

First, someone had to walk into his class uninvited (a disturbance which always maddened him regardless of the reason), which just happened to be the President's daughter, and then this effeminate guy got in his face. He mulled over his options carefully, but since he was an insane dude with a chainsaw and a very short fuse, that added up to only one option: cut girly-boy's head off. Too bad the Bella sisters weren't around, then it would be a party. Unfortunately for Dr. Salvador, though, there were games afoot.

While the raving Alfred had distracted him, Claire, Rebecca and Ashley had managed to leave the way they'd come in, probably returning to their normal activities. In the meantime, a rather short and funny-looking guy had come into the auditorium and strolled on stage, smiling pleasantly, and carrying a boom box playing modern didgeridoo music.

"Are you Dr. Salvador?" he asked, walking up to them without any hesitation.

Dr. S nodded.

"My name's Jonathan, and I'm a geometry teacher from the high school who's come to fight you in the name of all that's good and represented by the DV Five."

Dr. S cocked his head in confusion. He had no idea what the DV Five was.

"Be Be Fo Ke Be!" Mr. Mac said happily, "Be on time, Be prepared, Follow directions, Keep hands and feet to yourself, and Be respectful!"

Of course, this really didn't mean much to the chainsaw-wielding psycho. He raised his chainsaw, communicating that he accepted Jonathan's proposal of battle and Jon gave a thumbs-up.

"Come on, guys!" he said, imitating Mickey Mouse the way he sometimes did for his high schoolers.

Dr. S followed the odd little man, while Alfred brooded over the fact that he'd just been interrupted twice in succession, and no one was listening to his tirade about it.

**In Nemesis' Art Class**

"Don't kill me!" the fat, redheaded, Mario-like middle school principal said, while the class seemed to disagree with that statement. Nemesis didn't really care either way.

He chased the Mario imposter out the door, past Bill Gates who was weeping hysterically over the destroyed Gateway, and down to the office. While Nemesis was busy busting the door down, the assistant principal hid in his room somewhere near the back, telling the women at the front desk to take all his calls, and admit no one.

Not surprisingly, they were slightly disturbed when Nemesis came stomping in, shaking the whole place. They stared for a long time, before Mrs. B, the woman at the phone, finally spoke.

"Um… Can I help you?"

Nemesis growled.

"I'm sorry, but Mr. Mc… The Mario-like guy… Can't see anyone right now. He's redecorating his office with nude pictures of Homer Simpson drawn by some student. Can I take a message?"

Nemesis thought about it for a moment and then said the least obvious word ever. "S.T.A.R.S."

"Right…" Mrs. B said, getting up from the desk and wandering off to bash her head into the mailboxes a few times.

**In the Lobby**

A somewhat chunky man in an Ozzy t-shirt and black shorts who looked like he could pass as the twin of the exorcist-guy from Beetlegeuse, named Alan, walked through the hall rather unenthusiastically. He could have been home at the moment playing videogames, or watching his daughter play softball, but instead he was strolling around the author's old middle school at her promise of seeing something he'd love. Right now, all he was seeing were odd acrylic paintings of South Park characters, and still life scenes.

"Nothing about this place is very thrilling," he muttered, cursing the green-loving girl for convincing him to play Intelligent Qube later. She was probably playing it at her own house right now.

He was about to turn around and leave, when to his complete surprise he spotted someone you wouldn't normally see walking around anywhere, least of which, in a school of nut jobs. Leon came jogging up to him, looking around like he was after an escaped convict that he expected to just be lurking around in the open.

"Hi, have you seen a creepy scar-faced guy in a beret around here anywhere?"

"… No…" Alan said, staring at Leon and trying to comprehend the situation.

"Good. It took me forever to lose him… Now I have to find Carlos. Have you seen a Latin American guy around here anywhere?"

"… No…"

"Damn. Well, guess I'll have to ask someone else."

"Heh," Alan said in a slightly amused tone, "It's interesting when game characters go out into the real world…"

"What?" Leon said, looking at Alan like he was speaking Spanish.

"She was right – this is pretty cool. Makes me want to go play the whole series right now. But I think I'll start with 4. It's fun to watch you get pitch-forked in the face."

"What are you talking about? Are you crazy?"

"Haha! That rumor doesn't apply to me – I live in New Jersey!" Alan said, turning away and heading towards the door happily, apparently pleased by his visit, and leaving the seriously disturbed Leon to question what just happened.

"What just happened?" he asked, looking around at the ceiling. "I bet this has something to do with the conspiracy! I bet he was a zombie! That's it – he must have been a zombie. But if he was a zombie… AAAHHHHH!"

Leon, being his stereotypical self, ran screaming like a little girl at the thought that there might be zombies around.

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_Another chapter done; once again, sorry for the delay and the fact that it's on the short side... It'll be longer and better next time, promise! I just need to get back on track. I've been working out how to get some of the suggestions in there, and it's slowly beginning to come together. I've put a couple of staff from my ex-high school in there, including my favorite math teacher. He really does do a good impression of Mickey, too._

_The Alan dude is a friend of my mom's – the guy who originally got me into Resident Evil back when I was in fifth grade. If it weren't for him, I probably never would have gotten to play it, and I've been a fan since I first did, at his house. So, I popped him in here, as a sort of tribute. For that matter, he and his wife gave me my first car (which was 2 years older than me)…_


	5. Chapter 5

_Alrighty, a new chapter for all you wonderful people out there. Since I've been popping some of the high school staff in here, I decided I would do a few of my old high school classes too… Since I'm running out of middle school classes at this point. But hey – more opportunity for me to be creative! I have been losing it a little lately… And not mind-wise. I just need some time to revamp, I guess._

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Chapter 5

**In a Vo-tech Room in the Very Back Part of the High School**

Luis had been assigned to teach a class called Health Occupations, which had sounded a little weird to him at first, but he'd come to find that the class was actually pretty entertaining. The students were all quite talkative, with the exception of one, and had some fascination with discussing the ongoing conflicts between the three different levels of the class. This was level 3, the oldest of the students being comprised of all seniors who had joined the program in tenth grade. And being the oldest, they had the privilege of volunteering in the hospital about fifteen minutes away, in the slummy part of the valley. And he had the honor of chaperoning them there.

It took a while for them to get changed into their navy and white uniforms, while a school bus outside of the doors at the end of the hall honked for them to hurry up. When they had all gathered at the door, Luis shut the lights off and followed them out to the bus, whistling a tune while the kids chattered amongst themselves about someone who got pregnant. The skies were overcast, and there was a steady drizzle.

The bus driver, a woman with a hairdo similar to an Afro, greeted each of the students jovially, while giving Luis an odd look as he took a seat in the front of the bus. "Substitute?" she asked.

"Yup," Luis said, smiling at her politely. "Nice bus."

The woman, named Fran, rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath, "No wonder she never let subs take the kids to the hospital before…"

The ride to the hospital was slow and bumpy, up a highway, and then through that run-down little town, past a few small houses, and right to the hospital. Several hundred compliments from Luis later, Fran parked the bus next to the Emergency Department entrance, saying goodbye to each kid, before giving a parting avowal to Luis as he got off. "Don't count on getting a ride back, bub."

"But - " Before Luis could finish, she pulled away, leaving him there all alone on the steps. "Um, okay… I guess the kids already went off to work…"

He put his hands in his pockets, looking around to pass the time, before deciding it was finally time to go in after he'd started to get soaked.. He descended the stairs, and stepped inside, the cool air feeling quite refreshing. Before he could take another step, a small woman, probably in her sixties, saluted from the desk directly in front of him.

"Good morning!" she said cordially, "Are you the substitute?"

"Yyyyyyeah," he said, slightly caught off guard by her overly pleasant greeting.

"Mr. Sera?" came a voice to his left, and he turned to face the quietest of the students.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

"Yes, I have no clue where I'm supposed to be today. Usually, I get a heads up as to who's here, and where I should work for the day, but I don't know."

The woman at the desk looked shocked. "Your teacher didn't leave a note or anything?"

"Nope."

"Well… Uh, how 'bout this? You and I will go to each department where you usually work, and see who has the time to take you in."

"Okay," she said, "Sounds good to me. The first one is right there, the lab."

They walked through a door to the left that served as the entrance to the ED, but taking another left, they came to a small lobby-like area where the walls were lined with chairs full of waiting patients. The patients observed them quietly, smiling in a manner that made Luis a little uncomfortable. What the heck were they so happy about? – They were there for blood work!

The girl walked up to the front desk, looking around quickly. "Is the doctor here?"

"Yeah, he should be back in the lab."

The girl led Luis through another door, into a large room, bustling with technicians working at different machines. They all smiled faintly at the girl, while they gave Luis curious looks. What was with this place and the looks?

They went to the furthest room in the back after not spotting the doctor anywhere up front, into Microbiology, where a woman with long, scruffy hair was sitting at a computer, typing with one hand and holding a phone to her ear with the other.

"The test results say the patient has MRSA. Yes, I know. Call back as soon as you do." She rolled backwards in the chair, hanging up the phone and turning to them, apparently pleased to see the girl. "Hey, came back for more?"

"If you have some time… I was actually looking for the doctor."

"He's somewhere around here. Until then, would you like to see some of the latest samples?" she asked, but before the girl could answer, she got up and headed for an incubator with a biohazard sign warning personnel not to store food in there. She opened it, and took out a stack of petri dishes, examining the labels. The incubator gave off a scent like nothing Luis had ever smelled before… Almost like swamp slime and rot. He held his breath until she shut the door, coming closer and removing the lid from a dish. "This is E-coli. It came from a patient who is just recovering from the poisoning, right now."

She stuck the dish right in Luis' face, whom leaned back slightly to avoid breathing on it, but she moved it closer.

"Don't be afraid to get close. People think that it'll jump out at them. Just don't take any deep breaths."

Luis couldn't help but thin this woman was vaguely homicidal, sticking petri dishes of dangerous diseases in people's faces.

"And this," she continued on, "Is MRSA."

"Is it just me, or are there a lot of patients here with MRSA?" the girl asked, giving her a quizzical look.

"It's pretty common," the woman explained, holding the petri dish up to Luis' face so fast he almost fell on his ass trying to back up.

The girl laughed at him, while the woman gave him a look like he was crazy. "Something wrong?"

"I think we should get looking for the doctor," he said, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder and leading her towards the door.

"But I didn't get to show you the best stuff yet!" Fortunately, before she could follow them, the phone rang and she immediately went to answer it.

Walking through the room at a quick pace, Luis was ready to get the heck out of there. The lab was eerie even to him, and he had worked in possibly the scariest hospital-type place on earth. Yet, the site was disturbing; blood being stored everywhere you look, odd employees…

Before he could get within ten feet of the door, though, he heard someone shout "SHIT!" and he got creamed right in the face with a flying blood bag, landing on his back hard.

"Ouch…"

**In the Lab of the Hospital**

Jack, one of the hospital's messengers, covered his mouth in mortification. He had just managed to take down some guy in rather nice clothes with a bag of type A blood. "I'm sorry! Here, let me help you up."

The WWII veteran set down the pink basin that he carried all the papers and samples he delivered to all the different parts of the hospital on the floor, grabbing the perplexed Spanish man that we know as Luis by the arm and raising him to his feet. "You okay, sir?"

"Y-yes… I think so…" Luis muttered, putting a hand to his head and trying to get his vision to focus.

"Nice shot, Jack," the girl giggled, and Jack looked up.

"Hey, I didn't even realize you were here! How are you doing? I was asking your friend in Same-Day Surgery where you were."

"I'm pretty good. I've been out for a while, though. How are you?"

"I'm good. I was just bringing a bag of blood back to the freezer from the blood bank, and it got away from me. Who's this, your teacher?"

"Substitute," she replied, "Mr. Sera, meet Jack. He's the messenger."

"Pleasure, I'm sure," Luis muttered; although he gave the old man a polite smile.

"Have you seen the doctor? We've been looking for him," the girl said, waving a little at a female technician back near microbiology who just barely peered over the top of a machine she was working at.

"Let's see… I think I last spotted him near CT. Why don't you go look down that way? If you can't find him, you can always lend me a hand – there's a lot to deliver today."

"I'll keep that in mind, thanks!" the girl said happily, motioning to Luis for him to follow. "CT and Radiology is this way."

They went back the way they had come, taking a few turns here and there, until they came to a long hallway, where they were accosted by a short, half-bald guy in a white lab coat.

**Walking Through the Halls of the Middle School**

David (a ripped geography/politics/psychology teacher who doubled as a baseball coach) walked through the hall alongside his friend, Anthony (a history teacher/football coach), swinging a bat back and forth idly. Neither of them had gone on vacation like the rest of the school district's staff, feeling that patrolling the halls in their spare time was more important… How they had ended up in the wrong school, though, was beyond them.

"Hey, Ant," Dave said suddenly, "Do you suppose Rick Santorum - "

Before he could finish, the paranoid Leon ran by, still screaming.

"HEY!" Dave screamed louder than any teacher should know how, "NO RUNNING IN THE HALLS!"

Anthony chucked the football he just so happened to have in his hand as hard as humanly possible, and nailed Leon right in the back of the head.

Leon, now completely perplexed, stopped and started looking around. "What the hell was that?"

"Donald Rumsfeld is coming to your house!" Dave shouted, and Leon just gave him a blank look.

"Who? How would he know where I live?"

"Stop asking questions! Be quiet! There are classes in session!" Dave shouted, contradicting himself.

"Um…"

"Shut up!" Ant said, picking his football up just to bounce it off Leon's head again.

"Would you please stop doing that!" Leon said vociferously, becoming annoyed that he was getting hit in the head repeatedly.

"Settle down, loud-mouth!" Dave said, raising his baseball bat and coming at him.

"Uh-oh," Leon said, starting to run again.

"WALK! NO RUNNING!" Dave screamed, chasing after him, followed by Ant.

**In a Nearby Room**

Salazar had been assigned to two different classes, unfortunately, both of which were in session at the same time, so he had to cram everyone into a single room. The one class, Peace Studies, used to being a small group, was rather irked by this decision, while the other, History Through the Media, was used to be crammed, and didn't mind in the least. It didn't matter to Salazar one way or another, because he was enjoying himself thoroughly.

Since the classes had different subject matter allocated to them, he had tried to find a topic that they could both discuss, but since Peace was on Auschwitz, and Media was on the Bubonic Plague, this wasn't so easy. He had finally resorted to the only possible solution he knew – dance around to 80's music.

But when that got boring, he resorted to the next best solution – put on the DVD of "Hotel Rwanda", which the class agreed did pertain to the media's portrayal of history, as well as violence and peace.

Salazar was in tears watching the final scenes of the movie, when he heard a commotion outside of the room. Drying his eyes and pretending nothing had happened, he sauntered out into the hall, spotting two teachers and Mister Kennedy screaming at each other about 'Donald Rumsfeld' and 'getting hit in the head'. It wasn't long before the hullabaloo attracted the attention of two other people.

Wesker and Birkin rounded the end of the hall, looking rather irritated themselves.

"Would you three be quiet! We're trying to plot, and your yelling is very distracting!" Wesker said, meriting three disgruntled looks.

This seemed like a perfect time for Salazar to step in.

"My friends, my friends," he said, calling their attention and then starting to sing, "S-A-F-E-T-Y – safety dance!" Of course, in his mind, Men Without Hats music solved everything.

While the five of them were watching Salazar dance around and sing, questioning their sanity all the while, a person they definitely weren't expecting to see came up behind them.

"You have been interrupting my psychology class for the last ten minutes," Alexia grumbled, and although they were caught off guard, they didn't seem very threatened.

"So what?" Wesker sneered, and Birkin nodded in agreement. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Kill you all," she said simply, and Salazar was suddenly inspired.

"Hey, I can build a hotel where you can all hide out to avoid dying!" Without a second thought, he danced off, still singing. "We can dance, we can dance. Everything's under control. We can dance…"

"What is wrong with that guy?" Leon asked, and there was a collective silence.

-------

_Mmm, Jeopardy! Sorry, I'm watching it for the first time in years, while I'm typing. Yeah, most of this chapter ended up being about the hospital. It was possibly the greatest experience of my life getting to intern there, and I've always wanted to immortalize it. That microbiologist is real - and she did stick petri dishes in my face. Jack is also a real person, the only WWII veteran I've ever met, and the second oldest friend that I have. And David… The scariest teacher I ever met – he scared me to death when I first met him, but he's actually a really nice guy, even if he screams a lot._

_Well, you now know the one thing I've associated Salazar with forever… "Safety Dance". Don't ask me why, it's just reminded me of him all this time. Maybe because of the mandolin-playing Midget in the music video… And I stuck "Hotel Rwanda" in there, 'cause the first time I watched it was in Peace – it's one of my favorite movies, and it makes me cry all the way through. Oddly enough, when I got writing about it in here, I couldn't stop thinking of that one Robot Chicken sketch with Hotel Rwanda and the Care Bear Cousins._

_Alexia teaching psych… Shudder! I had to work her in somewhere, and that seemed appropriate in some way – as well as seriously creepy. I should have her meet my old psych teacher…_

_Yeah, I know, it was a short chapter. It'll be longer next time, I promise. And suggestions are welcome, as they would probably help inspire me, so it doesn't take so long for me to update._

_In the meantime, leave me a review, and let me know what you think!_


	6. Chapter 6

Sorry for the seriously late update… Hey, that rhymed… Another chapter – huzzah! It might not be the best, because I've been focusing all my energy into other things, a lot of stuff going on in the family, and my stress level having gone from a 1.2 to a 5,000 for the past couple weeks. Everything's okay now, though, so I won't bother you all with it – I like happy readers, not dispirited ones.

This chapter is on the short side… namely because when I started it, I ended up ignoring it for a long time, and then came back to it not wanting to change what I'd already written, but also, not having a clue what to do with it. So I sort of improvised until next time, when it'll be back to… whatever I consider normal.

And my best friend makes an appearance, 'cause I'm trying to cheer her up about not being at my house in ages.

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Chapter 6

**Somewhere in the Lobby**

Brad looked around cautiously, certain that there wasn't anyone or anything around that could potentially hurt him. He was about to heave a sigh of relief when he suddenly heard a voice behind him.

"Hey, Brad – Wuz up?"

Brad shrieked, turning to see it was only Leon. "Jeez," he said, giving the blond a dirty look, "Don't do that again!"

"Why are you so edgy?" Leon asked, "And… Uh… What's with the pitchfork wounds?"

"I got attacked by angry Spanish villagers because I tried to get one of my students back, and then I almost got turned into one of them," Brad explained grumpily, and, after noticing Leon's bruises, added, "And you, what's your story?"

"I got attacked by a teacher with a football, received a death-threat before watching a midget dance, and then snuck off while no one was looking and found you."

"What a day…" Brad groaned, and Leon nodded in agreement.

"But it can't get any weirder than this," he said optimistically, just in time for a cloud of smoke to erupt in the middle of the hall.

Steve Irwin, the Crocodile Hunter, looked around in amazement as the smoke cleared. "Crikey! I came back inside of a school!"

Although the Australian seemed to have not anticipated ending up in the school, he was nevertheless thrilled. Brad and Leon, on the other hand, were speechless.

"Hey, mates! Where am I?" he asked jovially, and the other two men just stared at him with dazed expressions.

"D – didn't you die… A couple weeks ago?" Brad said slowly.

"Aye, I got a stingray barb stuck in me chest," he replied, as enthusiastic as ever.

"Then… Why are you… Here?" Leon asked, slowly beginning to process the situation.

"I came back, to spread a message of peace!" he said happily, and they exchanged seriously disturbed looks.

"Maybe he's a zombie?" Brad suggested, and Leon seemed to take this into consideration.

"He doesn't seem like one… We could test him…"

"There's a test to see if you're a zombie?" Steve asked, apparently amused by the concept. "But I'm not a zom – wait… Will there be dangerous critters involved?"

"Maybe," Brad said, and Steve clapped his hands together in excitement.

"Sounds like fun! Let's go!"

Brad and Leon just looked at each other weird.

**In the Lobby of the High School**

Brit, best friend of the author, had come back to visit their old school district and upon stepping inside, found herself in the presence of a seemingly lost Chris Redfield.

Although she wondered why he was pacing back and forth anxiously, she wasn't about to stop and ask – she had much more important things to do right now, including meeting a friend by the dark room. But her plan to just walk by was immediately foiled when Chris noticed that he wasn't alone.

He looked at her desperately. "Do you know anything about algebra?"

"No," she said derisively, questioning why of everyone he could ask, he asked her. "I can barely add."

He gave her a funny look. "Are you serious?"

"Yes, now I have to go," she said, beginning to walk away, only for him to follow after her.

"Do you know anyone whose good at algebra?"

Brit thought for a moment. "Yeah, math teachers."

"No, come one, be serious! I really need help – and the only math teacher that isn't on vacation is busy!"

"Okay, okay," she said gruffly, getting annoyed, and Chris seemed thrilled at the prospect of being helped . "My friend can probably help you. She's all mathy."

**In the Classroom Right Next to the Library**

Jonathan, the Geometry teacher, was giving his class some quick instruction before his imminent battle with Dr. Salvador.

"If you take that 10 and plug it in, like 'plug it in, plug it in'…"

Dr. S was getting rather impatient. He'd been standing there for a while now, listening to this man discuss lots of numbers and it was becoming seriously boring for the uneducated chainsaw-wielder.

"Lets say X means an eraser…"

Any minute now, Dr. S felt like walking out and going to see 'Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning', but he figured he'd wait just a minute or two longer.

**Outside of the Dark Room**

Brit looked around, but seeing no sign of her friend. "Where is she? She said she'd be right here."

They had been waiting for quite a while, and it was beginning to look hopeless. That is, until they heard a weird hyena-like sound from inside the dark room.

"What was that?" Chris said, backing away from the door until he ran into the wall. "It sounded like a chipmunk."

Brit gave him a look of disbelief. "What planet are you from?"

"Earth," he said matter-of-factly, and Brit just shook her head. This was going to be a long day.

"Biography!" came a muffled voice from inside the dark room, and they exchanged disturbed looks.

"What the hell?" questioned Brit.

"I don't know, but I'm not going in there!" Chris said.

She rolled her eyes, and put one hand on the doorknob, turning it slowly, and then yanking the door open. She and Chris both screamed.

"Uh, what the hell are you screaming about?" Vee (that would be me) asked, coming into the hall with a rather disturbed look.

"What the hell were you doing in there – with Nemesis? And what the hell is that thing!" Brit asked tensely, pointing past Nemesis who had come out into the hall, at a monster Vee had never told her about.

"Oh, that's Alexander… Well, Nosferatu, actually… But I still call him Alexander," Vee said thoughtfully with a nod as Nosferatu joined them in the hall.

"Okay… But what were you doing? Wait, don't tell me – I don't even want to know."

"I'll tell you anyway! We were talking about Biography."

"What?" Brit asked, not totally sure what to think.

"It was really more me talking about how Alex, here, reminds me of the host somehow… But, anyway, did you want something?"

"You and I were supposed to meet here, then walk around the school for a few hours."

"I know that. But why is he with you?" Vee asked, pointing at Chris who seemed to be counting the dots on the ceiling tiles.

"He needs help with math. Right?"

"What? Oh yeah, yeah. Math. Can you help me?" Chris asked, turning his attention to Vee.

"Uh… I guess… Can I give a plant knives?" Vee asked totally at random, when the thought popped into her mind.

"What?" he said in total disbelief, and then disregarding what she'd just asked, replied, "Sure. What's the harm?"

"Then lets go!" she said happily, and they all began to walk. They had only been strolling through the hall for a minute, when Nemesis spotted the Mario-like guy that had interrupted his class and then hidden from him in the office, walking out of the cafeteria. He growled loudly, and started towards him at a run, the assistant principal shrieking "I don't have an opinion!" and bolting back towards the lobby. They all stood in silence until Nemesis disappeared around the corner, following his prey.

"Wait… You were having a conversation about Biography with two hideously deformed monsters?" Chris asked suddenly, several minutes behind on the uptake as usual.

Alexander, utterly mortified by being called 'hideously deformed', started to moan deafeningly.

"You made him cry!" Vee said, giving him a dirty look. Chris was taken aback at this.

"What's wrong? All I said was you were talking about Biography with two shockingly revolting - "

He wailed even louder, to the point that, if the loudest, most obnoxious person you know was screaming in your face at 5' o clock rush hour that your house was on fire, while "Praeludium and Allegro" (violin song with notes that go off the normal bar staff) was blasting on a stereo right next to your bed, the entire area's police, fire department and emergency service's vehicles had sirens going right outside of the room, Earth Crisis was throwing a concert next door and the whole country exploded around your street, you still wouldn't be able to hear it over him.

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Kinda lame that I wrote in Steve Irwin, but I was rather uninspired during my hiatus of updating this, and also… I did kinda like that crazy Australian – even though he got on my nerves.

I'm working on getting Nemmy back to his art class – I know I didn't go into how he ended up in the darkroom, but the randomness fit with the arbitrariness of this chapter. And Nosferatu… don't ask why he reminds me of the Biography guy. Even I don't know.

The next chapter will be a lot better, and longer – and hopefully it won't take me so long to post it.

_Anywho, leave me a review telling me what you thought, and I'll get to work on a new installment!_


	7. Chapter 7

_Well, I think that chapter's will be a couple parts shorter from now on, 'cause that's a little easier for me to finish on a more regular basis._

_This chapter in itself is really weird… Probably because I keep having weird dreams where I live in an Umbrella office building lately… Last night the whole dream focused on pizza… in an office building._

_Yeah, I have weird dreams… Maybe I'll turn them into a story someday. In the meantime, onto the newest chapter!_

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Chapter Seven

**In the Home Depot Near the School**

Salazar was seriously rich, but that was beyond the point. Looking around a Home Depot, you quickly find yourself remembering just how expensive building projects can be… And time consuming, too. Our vertically challenged castellan friend wasn't about to give up on his Hotel-Rwanda-rip-off idea, though.

There weren't a lot of people in the lumber section, so he set off to look around for someone until he noticed a man standing by the rolls of chain, observing each of them carefully, while impatiently swinging the paint can in his hand.

"Pardon, but where's the nearest hotel, friend?" Salazar asked, walking up to the man who promptly dropped the paint can on his own foot at the sight of him.

"Oww," the guy said irritably, hopping up and down on his good foot and failing to notice that the lavender paint in the can was leaking out all over the floor next to him. "You mean the Best Western?"

"Sure, if that's the closest one," Salazar replied good-naturedly, and the man removed one hand from his foot to point towards the shelf on the right.

"It's that way," he muttered, and the castellan decided it was time to get this project going and set off, just as the annoyed man slipped in the paint and went right into the shelf he'd pointed at seconds earlier.

"I hate this place!" the guy screamed, and a kitchen sink fell on him.

**In the Cafeteria, Back at the Middle School**

Annette, for reasons she didn't quite understand herself, had come to substitute in this seriously strange school, and since the lunch lady had come down with the flu, she got stuck in here… in this filthy room where she had to cook and watch people eat…

The thought of that made her shudder, but since she was here, she might as well do something in the way of work to keep her mind occupied. After all, virtually all she ever did before this was work constantly.

There was about ten minutes until the first lunch period, and she was staring at what was supposed to be ravioli… but for some weird reason it sounded like it was growling at her.

"Hmm…" she said, backing away from it. "Maybe if I just turn the heat up…"

The pasta grumbled loudly, and she immediately decided that wasn't a great idea.

"Okay, then I'll just come over here and toss the salad…"

She raised the salad fork, and poked at the mixture of lettuce, julienned carrots, and something that remotely smelled like watered-down Italian dressing. She jumped back in shock when it appeared to blink, and rustled around slightly as though it was repositioning itself.

"Who makes this stuff?" she asked, taking a closer look at the box the food had been delivered frozen in. "Let's see… Food prepared by Awesomely Cultivated – 'We treat our foods with less antibiotics, so it grows bigger, but you don't become immune!'… A division of Umbrella."

Nothing even needed to be said about that.

Tossing the box aside again, she took a brief look around the cafeteria, which in a few minutes would be like… Well, it wouldn't be pretty.

She was contemplating how to go about doing this, since there was no way she was touching that food now that she knew how disturbingly fresh it was (even if she did work for Umbrella) when she heard the door open, followed by a very ominous wheezing sound like someone breathing through a shredded straw. She peered around the corner, spotting something she wasn't sure she wanted to see anywhere, let alone in an empty cafeteria… An Iron Maiden.

It inched towards her, twitching and wheezing. She had no idea what to do, since the kitchen didn't have any back exits and it was getting close now. Without warning, it stopped. The Iron Maiden pointed an abnormally long, and gnarled finger towards the food.

"… You want food?" Annette asked, having no clue whatsoever how it even got there.

It shook its head and wheezed louder, continuing to point. When she didn't venture to ask any more questions, it went over to the food, and started dishing it out, completely ignoring the weird sounds it made.

"I'll take the money then…" she said manning the part of the counter as far away from the monster as she could, and the Iron Maiden just looked at her and wheezed.

Within minutes, students began to pile into the cafeteria, and Annette barely paid any attention to them, her mind being more on the beast a few yards away, handing out trays. Most of the students were rather uneasy observing the creepy spiked creature. Some of them, on the other hand, were barely aware of the fact it was there.

Annette was virtually off in La La Land, when a student stopped, and said to her matter-of-factly, "I had a dream in math class today that the lunch lady was smothering me with a chicken patty."

"Congratulations," she muttered unenthusiastically.

As the line began to deteriorate, she was surprised to see her husband William walking up to her.

"Good Afternoon, Annette," he said on a cheerful note, happy to be away from his students for a little while longer.

"William, what are you doing here?"

"'Lunch Duty'," he replied meditatively. "What is the purpose of the Iron Maiden?"

"I don't have the slightest."

They both looked down towards the monster just in time to see it rip a poster of Cookie Monster that said 'Got Milk?' off the wall and tear it to shreds with its teeth for no apparent reason. They were about to exchange confused comments when a student came through, dancing around in a circle and singing loudly to himself.

"… I wrote to explain I'm your biggest fan. I just wanted to ask could I eat your - "

"Okay, I think that's quite enough," Claire said, covering the kids mouth before he could say the next bit. The Birkins had been so involved in watching the poster get eaten and a kid singing a dirty song that they hadn't even noticed her come in.

When the kid had left, Claire decided to try striking up a friendly conversation. "How do you like the school so far?"

They exchanged looks and replied, "Dreadful."

"I don't think it's that bad… Although I did get chased around by a guy with a chainsaw…" She looked down to where the Iron Maiden was now playing tug of war with the green Jell-O over a piece of poster. "Um… What's up with that?"

Before either of them could answer, the cafeteria became completely filled with the sound of every single student clapping the rhythm of "we will, we will rock you".

"What is that?" William asked, not expecting an answer.

"That's Queen," Claire said, and then after a moment added, "Why don't they ever get to 'we are the champions'?"

The three of them stared at each other in complete silence for a while, listening to the hypnotic clapping until they were joined by an annoyed Alfred.

"Does anyone plan on stopping them?" he said unpleasantly, and they all just stared at him. "Alexia would never let something like this go on."

"No offense," Claire said, "But your sister is a completely homicidal psycho."

"Don't speak of my dear sister like that, or I'll throw you in the Iron Maiden!" he shouted, receiving three odd looks.

"That thing down there?" Annette asked, pointing to the creature, which had somehow managed to make the green Jell-O bleed like a wounded animal.

"No, the torture device… What is that?" Alfred asked, somewhat revolted at the sight of it.

"It's Iron Maiden," Claire answered, and the student from before (who happened to be passing by on the way to the garbage can) piped in.

"Like the band?"

"No. The beast," William replied.

The student brought the tray back up to the Iron Maiden, and looked at it intently for a moment before starting to sing 'Number of the Beast'. "Just what I saw in my old dreams, were they reflections of my warped mind staring back at me?"

The four of them traded funny looks, while the kid continued.

"Night was black, was no use holding back! 'Cause I just had to see was someone watching me? In the mist dark figures move and twist! Was all this for real, or just some kind of hell?"

The Iron Maiden seemed to like the tune, since it stopped tormenting the Jell-O and started to do something slightly like a dance.

" … That… is the most disgusting thing I've ever seen…" Alfred said, watching the scene.

"You would see much worse in a vivisection lab, A-Money," William stated, not noticing what he'd just said.

"Are you feeling all right, William? You just called Alfred 'A-Money', whatever that means…" Annette explained, starting to feel concerned about her normally erudite husband.

He scratched his head. "I must have picked it up from my students…"

She rolled her eyes. They'd only been here for a little while and already William was starting to act batty.

**By the Janitor's Quarter's**

Steve was substituting for a janitor that had recently gotten fired for… somewhat disturbing reasons.

He had been informed by the school administration that there had been funny sounds coming from the ceiling crawl space, and they wanted him to go up and take a look around. He didn't want to pull himself away from picking through the "interesting things" that were scattered around the room, but there was a job to be done… And money to be made.

He grabbed a ladder and started to wander the hall looking for a loose ceiling tile. About an hour later, when he was starting to get tired and could just barely even drag the ladder along the floor, he stopped.

"Why can't I find a loose tile?!"

"You're right under one," a passing student muttered, and Steve looked up.

"Damn."

The ceiling crawl space was mostly for the purpose of storing the miles of electrical wiring, heat and water pipes that the school didn't have any other room for. As Steve looked around, he didn't notice anything all that out of the ordinary. It was almost pitch black so he could barely notice anything anyway, since he forgot the other batteries for the malfunctioning flashlight on a pile of health magazines the students had defaced back in the room.

When he was about to turn around, he heard a snarl up ahead, but thinking it was probably just a heating vent, he put out a hand to see if there were any nearby surfaces. To his dismay, his hand met with something right in front of him that felt coarse.

"Is that insulation?"

But there was something different about its consistency. It didn't feel like fiberglass, it felt almost like fur… And as he kept poking at it, something wet dripped onto his wrist.

"Eww. It feels like… drool?"

Something barked, and began to growl loudly. He took the virtually dead flashlight out of his pocket, and banged it on the tile a few times until it came back on.

"Uh oh."

A seemingly perturbed colmillo stared him in the face, drooling everywhere. What Steve didn't know, was that all the drool was soaking into the already fragile tiles around them.

"I'm leaving now," he said, inching away from the monster, just for the tile below him to give out. He hit the floor hard, laying there for a moment before opening his eyes to see three girls staring at him with their arms crossed. He'd fallen right into the Girls Bathroom.

"You better get out of here right now," Girl Number One said.

"Uh…" replied Steve, still a little dazed.

"If you don't get out, we'll report you," informed Girl Number Two.

When Steve just continued to stare at them, Girls Number One and Two looked over at Three, whom nodded.

"If you don't get out," she said, cracking her knuckles, "Ima bust a cap - "

"Okay, okay. I know when I'm not wanted," Steve cut Three off, leaving the bathroom in a hurry.

He started back towards the janitor's quarters to give the administrators a call and tell them what he found, when he came to a dead halt next to a window. Out on the field, there was a whole pack of colmillos… playing soccer.

"I'll pretend I didn't just see that."

Back in the room, he got on the phone with his findings.

"Well, when I was looking around in the ceiling, I ran into a colmillo, and - "

"I knew it!" the man on the other end said, "Every year, those colmillos flock here in the masses to play soccer and listen to Snoop Dogg!"

"What??" Steve said, not totally sure he heard him correctly.

"Keep an eye out for the Hunters. They have some weird obsession with eating textbooks…"

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_Well, I finally worked Annette and Steve in there… Now I've only got a few more people to add before I can really do something here… But what, even I'm not sure._

_The Home Depot is actually one of my favorite places to just wander around and look at stuff. My mom and I like interior design, so it makes sense._

_Ahh, how I fondly remember avoiding the school's food! Although I did always like the salad… We used to do that "We are the Champions" clapping thing in my middle school whenever the principal wanted to make an announcement. That's one of my favorite memories, actually. And I do know a guy who dreamed about the lunch lady smothering him._

_Now try to picture that – Colmillos and Hunters being common pests. I wonder if they would make repellant for that…_

_Anyway, leave me a review and let me know how it was! Your reviews make my day… or night. Whenever I check my stats._


	8. Chapter 8

Sorry for that huge delay in me posting the next chapter. I have this horribly tendency to get sidetracked, and I got a bit too involved in writing my RE/Conker's Bad Fur Day crossover to put work into this… That and trying to fix my dumb computer. The memory is almost trashed from a virus one of the files I created at the library picked up. Now I've got to try cleaning everything out, and repair the damage, which has been going very slow. It hasn't stopped me from typing much of anything ('cause I can open my documents in safe mode without it freezing or crashing), but it did destroy my audio files, and a couple programs. Now I've got to try writing to this local computer show for advice, 'cause every attempt I make to solve the problem all results in one of two things: either my mouse begins working again, or my audio suddenly comes on. So if you read anything I write, I may update even slower. I have at least five fics to update regularly (including this), and a possible sixth that I got a request to continue after not updating it in months.

Anyway, onto the story. I've wasted enough of your time rambling.

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Chapter Eight

**In the Middle School Cafeteria**

Annette was beginning to get slightly worried. After the first lunch period, they had somehow nearly run out of food, and the principal had instructed her to make something else. Unfortunately, the only thing she found in the fridges was a lot of Awesomely Cultivated's patented Sloppy Joe Meat Mixture. Not knowing exactly what else to do, and being on her own now since her husband had to go "teach" some more, she stared at the numerous Ziplock bags of the disgusting mixture sitting on the cold shelves.

"What am I supposed to do?" she asked herself, and all of a sudden, a spiked hand jerkily grabbed about fifteen bags at once. She peered slowly over at the Iron Maiden, who just wheezed.

"Should I even ask?"

It walked back over to the hotpans, shredding the plastic bags with a spine growing out of its arm, dumping the mix into the pans with an eerie KZZZSSSHHH sound. One pan gurgled at the monster, who just stuck a serving spoon into it and shut it up.

"Where'd this thing learn to cook?" Annette murmured to no one in particular, and the Iron Maiden looked over at her. "I didn't mean that in a bad way."

It just twitched uncontrollably in response, looking expectantly out into the cafeteria again, watching for the first sign of the next wave of students.

She just shrugged, and walked over to the pans of meat and sauce, looking at them in disgust. And yet… It was almost like she couldn't look away.

The students had started to pile in, but Annette didn't notice. She was a little too busy staring at the bubbling meat.

"Uh… Is she okay?" a female student asked.

"Hhhhhheeeeeeehhhhhhhh," replied Iron Maiden.

**Meanwhile, Over the Loudspeaker…**

"Hello, this is Maria and today I am here on behalf of the debate club to give you a preview of the upcoming debate, which we hope you will all buy tickets to so the school can cover the new football field with Astroturf. Anyway… Here to argue with me is a very special guest. Please welcome Ozwell Spencer!"

Someone clears their throat gruffly, and there's a fluttering of papers. "Err, why am I here?"

"To debate, duh… Okay. Mr. Spencer, your company had no form of ethics at all, as well as causing the deaths, amongst other things, of many, many people. Therefor, you suck."

"As President of Umbrella, it is my duty to inform you that I was made for the people by the people. So in order for me to suck, you would have to suck too."

**Back in the Cafeteria…**

Annette was still staring at the bubbling meat, even though many students had started to stop and gawk at her. And some others were dancing around clapping their hands in her face. Didn't matter, she was still very interested in that meat.

There was something so… red… about it… And so… meaty…And so… sloppy…

"Eat me."

"What??" Annette snapped out of her trance, looking around, but not seeing anyone near her, except the Iron Maiden who waved and attempted something of a smile.

"Repulsive," she muttered, rolling her eyes.

"Eat me," someone repeated, and she looked down to see… nothing but meat.

"Uh, okay. I think I need to go to sleep for a while."

"No, I am actually talking."

"Who is talking?"

"Me."

Annette was getting seriously creeped out. "Who?"

"Me."

Her gaze came to rest on the meat.

"You?"

"Yes, me! Jeez, how stupid are you? If meat was to talk to anyone else, they would have figured it out by now!"

"I resent that," she said, grabbing a cleaver off of the counter behind her and throwing into the pan.

"Damn, that hurt! Now I won't tell you what's in the school's tacos!"

"I don't care."

"Then… Um… I won't tell you what happened in the end of Napoleon Dynamite!"

"Napoleon what??"

"Fine. Be that way."

"Where are you going with this moronic - "

"I don't know. I just wanted someone to talk to."

"Meat that wants someone to talk to?"

"Of course. I have feelings, don't I?"

"Well, actually you're just a pile of smashed tomatoes, blood and muscle. I know that living organisms have feelings, but when they get ground up and packaged, I'm pretty sure they're no longer sentient. So you're probably just a figment of my imagination."

"No, I'm just as real as the Lunch Lady Song."

"What?"

"Hoagies and grinders, hoagies and grinders. Navy beans, navy beans, navy beans… Sloppy Joe, sloppy, sloppy Joe," the pan of meat sang, while Annette gave it a very disturbed look.

She stood there staring at it intently until it fell silent. "I didn't say stop."

"Sloppy Joe, sloppy, sloppy Joe," the meat continued singing, "Sloppy Joe, sloppy, sloppy – AAAHHH!"

The Iron Maiden stuck a ladle into the meat, piling a large amount of it onto a bun and giving it to a waiting student as the pan of beef and tomato fell permanently silent.

"That was very strange," Annette said to the spiked monster.

**Roaming the Halls**

Steve had gotten bored sitting in the Janitors' lounge/office/huge-closet-type-thing-where-they-hang-out. He'd been going through old defaced textbooks that had been abandoned in a pile near the door, and found himself vaguely entertained by an old American History book that someone had labeled various illustrations in… And doodled on another that now showed a man leaning out the window and vomiting on Paul Revere. Taking a couple other books in hand, he decided to take a walk to numb his boredom as much as humanly possible.

He flipped through the pages of an abandoned French workbook, finding cartoons on nearly every page that the owner had drawn out of tedium, most of which involved Lord of the Rings and characters being in The Omen. Getting really into reading one, he inadvertently stopped paying attention to where he was going.

After what felt like a few minutes, he suddenly collided with a desk, falling over it and landing on his face. "… That hurt…"

To his surprise, he was greeted by an all too familiar voice. And it didn't sound happy.

"What do you think you're doing?" Alexia said unpleasantly, observing the redhead that had just walked in and tripped over a desk, with a glare while the class just stared.

"Uh… Leaving?" Steve replied, quickly getting to his feet and straightening out the desk.

"No, I don't think so." She started to come at him.

"Yeah, I am," he said matter-of-factly, hoisting up the desk and throwing at her. Of course, it missed, but he had a back up plan. "Catch!" He tossed the American History book, but Alexia caught it.

"American History? You're going to have to try harder than that," she said just in time to get nailed in the face with the Algebra book.

"Bye!" Steve said running out of the room… And right into Carlos.

"Watch where you're going!" Carlos said irritably, after they had collided with the floor.

"Sorry, I was in a hurry."

"That's kind of obvious," he said sitting up, "Hey, have you seen part of a conspiracy list anywhere?"

Steve gave him a funny look. "No. Why?"

"It's a long story," he responded tiredly. "Anyway, why were you in such a hurry?"

"Her," Steve answered, jumping to his feet and putting a couple yards of distance between himself and the door, where a flaming Alexia stood, her arms crossed huffily.

"I'm feeling generous," she said, eyeing them disagreeably. "So you may both have ten seconds to run."

"Why am I suddenly involved in this?" Carlos asked indignantly, but not receiving an answer. "So, shat do we do, Steve?"

"Run, duh!" Steve made a move to take off, but Carlos grabbed his shoulder.

"She'd just find us. We should try to defeat her. She's, like, completely evil right?"

"Yeah, I suppose. Where are you going with this?"

"'Light will spell her doom and death' – how about that?"

"I don't think Darkness Falls is the answer to our problems… Wait, I've got it!"

"'Brightest flame engulfed her whole, setting free her wicked soul'?"

"No, fire extinguishers," Steve whispered, "There's a whole pile of them right down there." He indicated the hall to their right, which led towards the office.

"Why is there a pile of fire extinguishers in the middle of a hallway?"

"That's beside the point. Let's go down there, now!"

Carlos and Steve bolted for the pile fire extinguishers, just as Alexia started after them.

"Oh crap!" Steve managed right before he skidded right into the pile of extinguishers, almost like he was diving into a pile of leaves.

Carlos was still about halfway down the hall, breathing heavily. "I knew I should have gone back to the gym after Christmas!"

Steve picked up an extinguisher, looking at it oddly. "How do you work one of these things?"

"The directions are on the label!" Carlos called, still a couple of yards away, running slower than a snail in the desert.

"Like I have time to read the directions during a fire," Steve muttered, trying to comprehend what they said.

"What's wrong?" Carlos panted, finally reaching Steve.

"What do they mean by 'pull the pin'?"

"That thing."

"This thing?"

"No, not that thing!"

Alexia reached them just in time for Steve to accidentally cause the extinguishers contents to decompress all at once, spraying her with a mixture of chemicals. "I'm melting!"

She hit the floor, looking like a charred crash-test dummy.

"I guess that works, too," Steve said, dropping the extinguisher.

"Maybe we should call the nurse," Carlos offered.

"First, let's get the hell out of here," Steve said, and they both took back off down the hall.

"Don't run so fast!" Carlos called after him, resuming his panting.

----------------

Yeah, this chapter wasn't very long, but it's been a while since I updated this, and I forgot where I wanted to go with it since then. But I had fun writing it, either way.

I decided to continue with Annette for a while because of that whole Adam Sandler's 'Lunch Lady Land' theme I had going. That will always be one of my favorite SNL skits. I don't know when I'll be going back to her again, but I'm going to try to make it good.

The bit with Spencer was inspired by a fic I wrote a long time ago, that involved Bill Clinton going to a random country and becoming president. Needless to say, it was a weird fic.

And, last but not least, the whole thing with Alexia was something I started thinking about a while ago. I was wondering what would happen if someone tried to extinguish her, and I decided to experiment in this story to see how it might go. I think Alexia is pretty cool, but it's still funny to see her get whacked in the face with a book.

_Well, that's the end of that chapter. Leave me a review and let me know what you think! Hopefully, I'll update this sooner next time._


	9. Chapter 9

_Ahh, a new chapter – and I'm updating the story without putting a two months in between posting this and the last chapter! I'm freezing, though… I wish they'd fix the heater… Eh, at least I don't have to help mom fix the toilet again._

_Okay, this chapter is going to focus a lot on this random idea I had one day. Remember when I left off with Mendez? Probably not, that was back in chapter 2, but anyway – I'm finally getting back to him. It kind of started when I got thinking about how Regenerators give me the creeps while I was listening to this song from The Naked Trucker and T-bones Show (funny show) and it inspired this chapter. I might even squeeze that song in somewhere. I did have a goofy idea for that…_

_Well, enjoy the chapter! I'm kind of working on this to temporarily ignore my other over-due fics… Writer's block sucks. At least I have ideas for this one, right?_

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Chapter Nine

**In the Middle School Spanish Class, Near the Art Room **

"Ahh," Mendez said in a happy tone. "Class, this is called a Regenerator."

The Spanish class just stared at the thing that had once been Robert, the seriously annoying French student. In some way, he didn't look much different than he had before… except now he was grey, and had really creepy teeth.

"They are created through simple experimentation on human subjects. They have very high metabolism, which allows them to rapidly restore lost appendages. The only sound they are capable of making is a wheeze."

He looked over at Robert, who did just that, the sickly rasp making the whole class shudder collectively. Someone in the back raised their hand slowly.

"Yes?"

"What is that music?"

Mendez had forgotten to mention the eerie song that played whenever a Regenerator showed up.

"That? That's the Regenerator's theme song – 'The Wheels on the Broken-Down Bus'."

**In the Faculty Bathroom in the Very Back of the School**

"Now, what's the plan?"

"There's a plan?"

"Wait a minute, I forgot to think of one." Wesker scratched his head, and leaned against the wall.

Birkin looked around idly. "This place is awfully pink…"

"I got it – this is the plan. We'll make it snow during a heat wave."

"That's not physically possible, Albert. Unless, of course, there was a second ice age and the words 'heat wave' referred to a large rise in temperature that was still below 32 degrees Fahrenheit."

"I wasn't being serious, Will."

"Then what is your plan?"

"I still don't have one."

Birkin looked around again, and he suddenly realized something. "We're in the Women's bathroom."

"I thought pink in a bathroom was a little weird for guys…"

Suddenly the door swung open, and Birkin shrieked like some unholy creature being mauled by another, even more unholy creature. He didn't waste any time running out past the woman who'd just walked in, and now stood there staring at the screeching guy and the other guy in total confusion.

"We got lost," Wesker said, walking quickly out of the bathroom.

"Uh… Okay…"

Wesker caught up with Birkin about a mile down the hall.

"What was that about, Will?"

"She just startled me, that's all," Birkin said matter-of-factly, just in time for someone to pop up right behind him.

"Hey, has anyone seen a warehouse office key around here?"

Birkin screamed again, this time, running straight into the wall and hitting the floor, unconscious.

"Great. Thanks a lot, retard," Wesker snapped, and Dario seemed taken aback.

"But it's-a me! A-Mario!"

"Don't you mean Dario?"

"Er…Yeah… Easy mistake."

"Get the hell away from me," Wesker said, starting to walk away, but Dario jumped in front of him.

"But I need help!"

"With what?"

"Finding my copy of Super Mario Brothers."

Wesker raised an eyebrow.

"I'm going." With that, Dario wandered off, hopefully not to reappear anytime soon.

"What did I miss?" Birkin asked, sitting up and rubbing his forehead.

"Nothing really worth mentioning," he muttered. "What are you staring at?"

Birkin pointed to something behind Wesker, and he turned, coming face-to-chest with Mendez.

"Mi amigos, is there a reason you're creating such a commotion? There are classes in session."

"What are you doing here? Did you escape from the freak show, or something?"

Mendez rolled his real eye, his glass one remaining eerily stationary. "Normally, I don't get annoyed very quickly. But that comment is the straw that broke the camel's back."

"Er, I'd just like to interject that an analogy such as that isn't very plausible in real life. And you're not a camel," Birkin said, and Mendez ignored him.

"I have a friend I'd like you to meet," Mendez turned and walked into a nearby room. But, instead of Mendez coming back out, a regenerator came out. It wheezed and started to approach them menacingly, until…

"Were you raised in a barn?" came Mendez's voice from inside, and the regenerator paused in its advance to close the door behind it.

"Why are we just standing here? Shouldn't we maybe go, before it attacks us?" Birkin asked and Wesker just chuckled to himself.

"I have a better idea."

**Still in the Same Place**

The two stood there casually, while the regenerator slowly made its way closer. Very, very slowly.

Birkin sipped a cup of tea, looking around the hall in a bored fashion. "You'd think they would be able to move faster."

"Where did you get the tea? You've been right here the whole time."

"I don't know. I didn't even notice that I have it," he replied thoughtfully, taking another drink.

"Okay, this is getting boring," Wesker said, walking up to the regenerator. "You've just wasted fifteen minutes of my life."

Robert the once-student-now-regenerator made a hissing sound, opening his creepy jaws wide, intending to bite the blond man's face off.

"Screw the plan, we have to be on our way," Wesker said, looking at his watch and then shoving Robert hard enough to knock him down. "Come on, Will. Let's go find something to do."

**Outside of the High School, in the Senior Parking Lot**

Wesker and Birkin strolled past car after car, quite a few of them being really expensive ones.

"We're in the middle of nowhere, just a short ways from the dirtiest, most impoverished-looking town I've ever seen, on top of a mountain. Where do these people get the money to give their snobby kids cars like this?" Wesker muttered.

"And motorcycles," Birkin replied, "I've never seen so many of them at a school before… Except for that time the Hell's Angels did an assembly at Sherry's school…"

There was a long moment of silence.

"Er, what are we doing?"

"We're looking for something to joyride through the school," Wesker answered.

"Okay… How about one of those?" Birkin pointed to a dark Mercedes and a Harley Davidson parked side by side.

"Hold on – that's perfect."

**Gliding Through the Halls Between Classes**

Birkin sighed, wondering why he kept getting into weird situations like this. He was riding along on a red bicycle someone had left in the parking lot, with Wesker sitting on the handlebars, sucker-punching people as they rode by.

"That sweater's a sin against nature!" Wesker shouted, knocking a preppy kid to the floor.

Even though the halls were crowded with students and staff members, no one had noticed them yet… Until Wesker punched them, anyway.

"Your hair is hideous! Where'd you find it, a rat's nest?"

"Albert, the hall is getting a bit too crowded for bike riding." He had a point – they were barely moving at all now.

"It's alright – it'll start to thin out any time now," Wesker said, "Good thing, too. I'm running out of insults." Wesker randomly punched someone without looking, and was surprised when his fist hit something hard.

"Uh, why'd you just punch my gas mask?" HUNK asked in a confused tone.

"What are you doing here?" Wesker said, never expecting to see the weirdo near a school, unless his unfounded suspicion that he was a pedophile turned out to be true.

"I'm substituting for the Jewelry Design teacher."

Wesker laughed and HUNK just shook his head.

"Laugh all you want, but it's actually an interesting class. They cut up metal, solder it together, spend a lot of time trying to open the valves for the acetylene and oxygen 'cause they gut stuck easily… "

"Point taken. Have you - " Before he could finish, Robert the regenerator popped up from the crowd just a couple yards away from them, what looked like an attempted smile on his face. "Damn it!"

"What's wrong?"

"Mendez sent that stupid creature after us, because he has some problem with people disturbing his class. Now it won't leave us alone."

"So why don't you just kill it?"

"Mendez will send another one."

"How would he know?"

"He just would."

"Kill it anyway. It'll give you some uninterrupted time."

"Makes sense."

"But we don't have any weapons," HUNK said, "The guy at the metal detector 'borrowed' them."

"Have you never watched Comedy Central?"

"… No. Why?"

"Anything's a weapon," Wesker began singing the catchy tune, "Even baby's tears. First you'd have to freeze them in ice bullet molds."

"That is seriously retarded. But tell me more."

"Then you'd need an ice gun and only an evil genius knows how to make one. Then you'd need an evil genius."

"I do believe I'd be one," Birkin piped up.

"Where is this going?"

"Keep your wits about you. A ten-foot man never sleeps. He'll track you down in your dreams, kid. And when you die in your DDDDDDDRRREAMS! – then you really die."

"I don't know whether to be amazed or disturbed."

"Who cares? Let's just do something," Wesker said, and HUNK nodded.

"Just one problem. What do we do?"

----------------

_Yeah, the chapter focused totally on Wesker and Birkin. But they kind of needed some strange adventure, I thought. That and I've been draining all of my ideas into other things. Probably why the Super Mario idea got worked in there…_

_One thing I noticed at my high school in my senior year, was that there were a lot of pricey cars being driven by students - and oddly enough, they were the drivers you wouldn't want to be in a car with. I've always wanted an Aston Martin, but the only car I've owned to this day was a 1985 Buick Century with no brakes. It was weird having a car two years older than me…_

_The 'punching people while on a bike' idea came to me when I was thinking about one of my old PS games, Road Rash Jailbreak. My favorite thing to do in that game was punch people as I drove by. And the song was borrowed from The Naked Trucker and T-bones Show. I just couldn't resist having them break into song._

_Well, that's all for now. Leave me a review, and let me know what you thought, or any suggestions. I'll be back sometime soon._


	10. Chapter 10

_Yup, back with another installment. I'd like to wish everybody (who cares, anyway) a happy St. Patrick's Day, since I'm mostly Irish (and German, English, Scottish, possibly Italian, Native American, French-Canadian and Pennsylvania Dutch – think Amish) and I've got to show my pride somehow since I only have a few drinks a year. I know it's a little late, but a snowstorm hit us, and I was pretty much buried in the house and then the library was closed._

_If you're wondering what this chapter is about… I don't really know at the moment. My mind has been all over lately, and I really didn't pre-plan a lot. Probably, it'll be somewhat random and weird… Although that's not entirely unlike the rest of it, either…And the last chapter will more than likely continue in this, in some form._

_Aside from that, there might be some stuff about "Dead Silence" in here, 'cause I'm dying to see that movie… We have to wait until the theater near here starts showing it, though. Right now they're showing 300, which I can't take seriously anymore because the guy with swords for arms makes me laugh every time they show a clip with him on TV… Yeah, I'm just that weird._

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Chapter 10

**Walking Through the Halls **

It was Jill's free period, and she was wandering the halls since she had nothing better to do. They were completely empty, except for the occasional janitor or hall monitor that would give her a weird look as they passed by, and the less occasional student cutting class to kick their lockers.

All in all, she really didn't care as long as the English teacher who kept hitting on her didn't pop up somewhere along her walk. What she wasn't expecting, though was…

"Hi, Jill!"

Jill jumped, impulsively punching whoever was right behind her in the face. "Oops – sorry, Dario. You scared the hell out of me…" she said politely, and he nodded from his spot on the floor.

"It's okay! This happens to me all the time," he said cheerfully, and she raised an eyebrow.

"That must suck."

"No, you get used to it."

"Um, okay." She turned away briefly to look back towards a student drawing the anarchy symbol on his locker with a Sharpie. When she turned back around, Dario was on his feet, suddenly wearing a red hat and a fake brown mustache. "What the…?"

"I'm on a quest," Dario explained, "Someone took my copy of Super Mario Brothers, and I've got to get it back!"

Jill just stared at him for a moment, considering walking away before she became too tempted to call the local mental hospital. "… And why are you dressed like Mario?"

"You can't go on a quest to find SMB without dressing the part. Hey, why don't you help me? You can be - "

"If you're about to say Princess Peach, no way. For that matter, no way in general. This whole situation is just way too weird…"

"Come on, if I don't find it I'll go crazy."

"Are you sure you haven't already?"

"Yes, but I have been getting deliveries of weird chemicals to the warehouse lately. They kind of smell like paint thinner and burning tires…"

"Were you breathing in the fumes or something?"

"Yeah, what's that problem with that?"

**In Another Hall, Not All That Far Away**

"Well, what do we do?" HUNK asked again, fifteen minutes later, when the halls had cleared out (except for Robert the Regenerator), and they were still standing there.

"I'm not the only one who's capable of having ideas, you know," Wesker said gruffly. "Besides, it doesn't look like he's going anywhere very quickly."

Indeed, Robert was only about a foot from where he'd started, making his way towards them at a record-breakingly slow pace.

"This is incredibly tedious," Birkin sighed. "Perhaps we could do something to liven things up a bit?"

"You're absolutely right, Will," Wesker replied. "We need to do something exciting."

"Like what?" HUNK said, looking around the hall for an idea.

"I'll be right back," Wesker said, walking off and disappearing around the corner.

"Wonder where he's going."

**In the Spanish Room**

Mendez hadn't heard from Salazaar since they'd come to the school district on the mountain, so in the meantime, while he was waiting to see what happened with Robert the once-French-student, he'd decided to give him a call over the radio.

"Ahh, Bitores," he said happily, popping up on the screen. "Wuz uuuuuppppp?"

"Wuz uuuuuppppp?" Mendez said back, not noticing the disturbed looks he was getting from the class while they were supposed to be taking a pop quiz.

"I got inspired to create my own Hotel Rwanda," Salazaar explained, "I'm working on it right now."

He turned to give the admissions guy behind him a dirty look.

"Really? And how are you doing that?"

"I'm hijacking the Best Western down the street from the school."

"And where is your class?"

"… Ooh, I forgot all about them…"

**Right Back Where We Were Before **(these guys are starting to remind me of The Three Stooges)

"What were you doing, Albert?" Birkin asked as Wesker came back up to them.

"I stopped by the office to use the phone." He looked over at HUNK who was now reading a piece of paper and playing with a lighter. "What are you doing?"

"I got bored, so I dug through the garbage and found an old note," he replied, "Then I was still kind of bored so I borrowed the lighter from that guy."

He motioned to a creepy-looking janitor leaning against the wall next to his portable garbage can only a couple yards off, smoking a cigarette. The janitor smiled and waved.

"Weirdo," Wesker said, deciding to ignore him. "Any ideas yet, or are we destined to stand here until that thing comes over?"

Robert the Regenerator was still slowly making his way towards them. Very slowly.

"Apparently this girl is breaking up with her boyfriend because he likes Mountain Dew more than her…" HUNK said.

"Give me that," Wesker said, crumpling up the note.

"Hey, I was going to make my own version of a molotov with that!"

"Now that I want to see," he replied sarcastically, tossing HUNK the ball of paper.

He went over to the janitor and they spoke for a moment, before he came back over with a bottle filled with strange brownish fluid.

"What is that?" Birkin said with a tone of disgust.

"According to him, some kind of highly flammable soap." He uncrumpled the paper ball, cramming the note into the bottle and setting it on fire. "Now if I just knew what to do with it…"

"Throw it, moron!" Wesker shouted.

"Oh, right." He randomly threw it, and ironically, it hit Robert, the now-flaming-Regenerator.

Robert, being like pretty much anyone who catches on fire and forgets what to do, started running around the hall, until he went right through a door and disappeared into a room nearby.

"Evidently he needed motivation to move more quickly," Birkin commented.

Just then, the still flaming Robert came flying out of the room and landed in a fiery heap in the middle of the hallway. Alexia came out of the room, her arms crossed in a seriously irritated fashion. "You again?"

"Oh, fantastic," Wesker responded.

"Why is it I can't teach in peace?" she asked herself caustically.

"Why can't I do anything without disturbing someone's class?" he muttered to himself.

"You already interrupted my class once, but then you had to come back and do it again. At this rate, it will be incredible if the students learn anything at all about how to properly gain control over others."

The three men exchanged odd looks.

"I think there is only one solution to this problem, and that is to kill you. Right now."

"We had better come up with a plan promptly," Birkin said as she started towards them.

"Um, I have one," HUNK said.

"What is it?" Wesker asked.

"You know that rhyme about that Dead Silence ventriloquist? Maybe we could psyche her out or something."

"That is completely idiotic," Wesker answered. "… But it might just work."

Together, they started to recite the rhyme. "Beware the stare of Mary Shaw. She had no children, only dolls. And if you see her, do not scream. Or she'll rip your tongue out at the seam.…"

She stopped, a combination of bewilderment and aggravation coming over her. "How dare you compare me to an old woman??"

"I kind of thought that it would take longer for her to catch that one," HUNK said, just in time for some guy and a camera crew to come up to him.

"Are you HUNK?"

"Uh… yeah."

"Hi, my name is Chris Hanson, and I'm from Dateline NBC's To Catch a Predator. I got a call from someone saying that you are a pedophile. Care to tell us why you're in this school?"

HUNK turned to Wesker, who just shrugged. "I got bored."

"So you told them I'm a pedophile?!"

"We've got a chat log right here from your instant messenger. Want to explain what you were talking about with this 13-year-old?" Chris Hanson asked, handing him a thick packet of papers.

"You went into my IM and pretended to be me?!"

"Hey, I had a lot of time on my hands, okay?" Wesker said indifferently.

"You can leave anytime you want, but there are cops waiting for you. Want a cookie?" Chris Hanson suddenly pulled out a plate of cookies.

"DAMN IT!" HUNK shouted, stomping off being followed by the camera crew and reporter.

"Well, that was entertaining for a while," Wesker said to Birkin, right before getting hit over the head.

**In Yet Another Bathroom Somewhere**

"I have such a headache," Wesker said, coming to. He looked around, disturbed to realize that, not only was he in another bathroom, but he was in a bath tub full of what appeared to be milk, and he was chained to the wall. "Why does this seem like a bad combination of different horror movies?"

Then it hit him.

"Where are my sunglasses?"

The door suddenly opened and Alfred came in, locking it behind him.

"What the hell is up with this?"

"My dear sister was going to kill you, but then she had a better proposition. Instead of death, you will spend the rest of your days in here, where you will be systematically made into cereal."

"What??" Wesker said, not sure if that was even possible. "… But if I get hurt, I just heal… And it doesn't take long."

"Good, more cereal," he said simply.

"You can't be serious."

"Oh, I am very serious. In fact, we're already working on ideas for marketing it."

"… That is SO creepy, it even scares me…"

Alfred went over to a cabinet above one of those motion-detector sinks and started digging around in it.

"… Where are we, anyway?"

"The bathroom across the hall from the auditorium. No one uses it, so no one will ever find you here." He smiled in a way only he knew how to.

"And why is there a bathtub in a school?"

"Stop asking questions," he said snippily. "It's time to start."

"Start what?"

"What did I just say?!"

Wesker irately fell silent until Alfred came over with a bag of salt in hand, dumping it over him.

"What was that for??"

"I like salty cereal."

--------------------------

_Um… Hope the end didn't, like, gross anybody out too much – sorry if it did. I was experimenting with ideas to use, and the whole 'making humans into cereal' thing came to mind. It was actually based on a conversation I had once with this fellow RE fan I've known since third grade, that started with him telling me I should have my own cereal, and eventually ended with him saying he was going to make the cereal out of me. Needless to say, he was scary. I don't know if I'll really do much with that idea… I guess it depends on the reaction you give me._

_With Dario, I can't help but associate that guy with Mario… And he was always my favorite minor character, even though he barely has a role in the game…_

_Dateline NBC – I never knew it was possible to get addicted to a news program, but I love that show. And Chris Hanson is one of my favorite people ever. His book about To Catch a Predator just came out and I've spent the last week watching his interviews about it, so I kinda have "Dateline-on-the-brain", or something. And those cookies… One thing I learned from that show, is that when you're about to go to jail and you're being interviewed, you apparently are inclined to eat cookies._

_I know this chapter was sort of random. I'm going to try to get back to all the people I haven't written about in a while next, since they kinda vanished for so long._

_Well, it's that time again. Leave me a review and let me know what you thought, and I'll be back sometime soon._


	11. Chapter 11

_Righty, here I am again… Well, it's been almost a year since I started writing this story. It's anniversary is in about 73 days, so I decided to celebrate early by doing something I used to do in all the stuff I wrote for my English classes – fake commentary by the most random people I can think of! I loved coming up with those things, so I figured I should do some for this, since I enjoy working on it so much._

_This chapter is an amalgam of strange ideas I've had lately. That and when somebody was sneaking around outside of my house not too long ago at night, it sort of spawned this weird chapter about prowlers and "stuff"… Anywho, all of that inspired me to write this chapter when I got thinking of this thing my 10th grade World Literature teacher said about what would happen if we had to stay at the school overnight. And I ended up with this…_

_The evil lawn leprechaun in this chapter is actually a character I created, like, seven years ago for a Sailor Moon story I wrote (yes, I like that show). For whatever reason, my mom loved him, and then she got mad at me for killing him off in another story. Then for some reason I put him in here… Well, at least my mom will be happy I used him again. She's the one who named him after all._

_And to top this weird chapter off, I might throw Saul from "Saul of the Mole Men" (if anybody watches Adult Swim they might have watched that) in as a guest appearance. I know that show has nothing to do with this, but I'm low on ideas right now. And that show is so stupid it makes me laugh. Okay, this is way too long; I'll shut up now._

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Commentary

The New York Times calls it, "**The weirdest story ever**! I laughed and then forgot why I was even here!"

I say, "That looks like a fetus with bright orange hair and a Hawaiian shirt… on the Spanish ghetto of Sesame Street."

Neils Bohr says, "I stared at the first page for a few hours and realized that osmosis doesn't work that way – I'd actually have to read the story."

Jay Leno says, "Your dog just bit me."

Candide (from Voltaire's Candide) says, "It was really interesting. When the Inquisition came after me, I threw it at them and they burned it at the stake for causing earthquakes."

Ralph Waldo Emerson says, "Um… … … … Okay…"

My friends say, "Jeez, Vera. You've really lost it. Stop hanging around Augra all the time."

Jim Henson agrees.

Augra (from Jim Henson's The Dark Crystal) says, "The Great Conjunction is the END OF THE WORLD!!! … Or the beginning."

Roald Dahl says, "Let us invent a machine to hear the roses scream while we prune the bushes." (I have to find a book with that story in it)

The Head of the Defense Department questions the possibility that the writer should be kept away from schools.

Freddy Krueger says: "I don't believe in fairy tales, and I have a cheerful mental hold on you, and I was burned badly."

Mike, Crow and Servo from Mystery Science Theater 3000 say, "I'll hang up and listen."

I come back and say, "Eww! Eww! Big capital letters with Las Vegas lights! EWW!"

Capcom says, "You are so sued."

The cast of this story collectively begins to inch toward the door, although they're perfectly aware that I have the B.O.W. Gravedigger hanging out in the hallway, playing chess (don't ask how).

Chapter 11

**In the Office**

"Thanks for coming in on such short notice," said the grey-haired principal with a pleasant smile. "For some weird reason our substitute teachers have been disappearing and we don't know where they went…"

"Glad to be of help," a weird, high-pitched voice said from the other side of the desk, and the principal leaned forward to get a better look at the guy he'd just hired.

"Don't get offended when I ask you this, but is it true that Leprechauns shine shoes and hoard gold?"

"Uh…" the living plastic leprechaun started. Before he could finish, the principal nearly punched the computer off the desk.

"Sweet spaghetti trees!" he exclaimed, "There's a huge storm about to hit! We'll have to keep all the staff members and students here overnight!"

"But why?" the leprechaun asked. "It's still sunny outside."

"Because the storm is going to hit in five, four, three, two - "

It suddenly became pitch-black outside, and the sound of thunder immediately rocked the school down to the foundation.

"Told ya," the principal said a bit too enthusiastically. "I love the Weather Channel!"

**In the Guidance Counselor's Office**

"So," Chris Hanson said paging through the packet of papers he'd shown the semi-confrontational HUNK earlier. "There's a long conversation here that I'd like you to explain to me."

"I never talked to a thirteen-year-old," HUNK said for what he counted as the fortieth time in fifteen minutes.

"That's what they all say," the reporter answered, "Besides, I have the chat log in my hand. Anyway, you've got a list here of things that you never specified what they were for."

"List?"

"I'll read it, and you tell me exactly what you were planning on at the time."

"Planning on for what?"

"When you went to meet the girl you were talking to."

"If I had a gun, I'd shoot myself right now…"

"This is quite a list… a CD of opera music, red wine, whipped crème, a Fabio book, some candles, a burning tire, varnish, a bag of year-old popcorn, the cable bill, a knife, an electric drill, post-it notes, and last, but not least – a condom."

HUNK stared at Chris Hanson blankly.

"What was all that stuff for?"

"I have absolutely no idea," he said in a completely bewildered tone.

"Well, I guess that means the cops can haul you off to the station now, for more questioning."

Before he could react, the PA system crackled, and the principal's voice came on. "Due to the dangerous storm that just blew in, everyone within the building is required to stay for the night. We'll figure out the rest as we go along."

"Well, I guess that means the cops can haul you off to some empty room where they can keep you until they can leave," the reporter corrected himself.

"But I didn't do anything!"

"What part of 'I have the chat log in my hand' don't you get?"

**In a Nearby Hallway**

Birkin was looking for Wesker who'd gotten abducted while he wasn't paying attention. So far, he'd checked half of the school and hadn't found a trace of his friend.

"This is like a Lifetime film," he said to himself.

"Hi, daddy! What's like a Lifetime film?"

Birkin turned around to see Sherry and some funny-looking guy in a blue and red jump suit with a mustache.

"Sherry, what are you doing here?"

"You brought me her this morning and told me to wander around while you were working. Don't you remember?"

"No… Not exactly. I was a bit busy at the time. At any rate, who is this?"

"This is Saul Malone. He went on an adventure to the center of the Earth and set out to save the rocks from the Mole Men."

"I'm a gealogist!" Saul said, and Birkin raised an eyebrow quizzically.

"Don't you mean a 'geologist'?"

"That's what I said – gealogist!"

"So, what's wrong?" Sherry asked, trying to avoid the subject of Saul's weird accent.

"Albert went missing and I can't find him anywhere. I'm afraid something dreadful might have happened."

"Why don't you take Saul with you? Two heads are better than one."

"Unless you're a two-headed freak of nature," Saul added, and Birkin just stared at him.

"Well, I'm going to go listen to Norwegian black metal and smoke some weed in the parking lot," Sherry said, starting to skip off and wondering if her father was going to catch that.

"Have fun," Birkin said, still staring at Saul.

"Okay, where did your friend disappear?" the geologist asked.

"The next hall over."

"The criminal always returns to the scene of the crime!"

The two of them walked over to the hallway Birkin had previously been in. There was nothing around at all, except for a rock in the middle of the floor.

"They must have sent it to give me a message!" Saul said.

"What are you referring to?"

"The rack! The racks must know where your friend is!"

"The what?"

"The racks!"

"Racks?"

"No, racks. R-O-C-K-S. Racks."

"Your accent is extremely irritating," Birkin muttered.

"Well, your eloquence is seriously annoying," Saul retorted.

While they argued, a small, green, plastic guy came up to them.

"Ahem."

They both looked down, finding themselves in the presence of what appeared to be a lawn leprechaun.

"Are you a hairless mole man?" Saul asked, and the leprechaun gave him a dirty look.

"I'm Dinky the Lawn Leprechaun, cousin of the garden gnome and scourge of all schools everywhere."

"Doesn't ring a bell."

"I have seen some odd things before, but you are by far the most anomalous. What matter of life are you?" Birkin asked.

"I'm made of plastic. And I go from school to school, terrorizing people and making cafeterias into hot dog factories. Then I vow to return and get revenge on the people who wrecked my plans, but never do."

"Why is that?" Saul asked.

"Because I don't."

"Why is that?"

"Because I don't, I already told you that."

"Why, though?"

"You ask too many questions."

"Why is that?"

"Shut up and give me those two stones you have!"

"You mean these ones?" Saul said, taking a large blue gem and amber gem out of his pocket.

Dinky swiped them and ran off down the hall.

"Swiper no swiping!" Saul shouted after him. "Damn, it only works on Dora the Explorer… Now I'll never win Fallopia's heart!"

"What are you talking about?!"

**Back in the Office**

"Hello," the principal said to the other guy he'd just hired, "I'm so glad you're here."

"What's the problem?" Mikhail asked, and the principal went over to the window and closed the shades after peering cautiously outside.

"We have a prowler hanging around outside of the school. We don't know who he is, or what he's doing, but we don't want him getting inside either way. He showed up with the storm, actually."

"How odd," Mikhail commented, although considering the 'everyone here is crazy' rumor he'd been hearing all day, he wasn't completely surprised.

"I want you to go look around for him – and keep him out of the school. Maybe kill him while you're at it."

"What?"

"Nothing," the principal said, pretending he hadn't just said that.

**Outside of the Auditorium**

"Hello. Hello, hello. I don't know why you say goodbye, I say hello," HUNK was singing to pass the time, while three state troopers were leading him to the room where he'd have to stay until they took him to the police station.

They stopped in front of a bathroom. "No one uses this bathroom, except for when there's drug testing, so we're going to leave you in here. Enjoy the view."

They shoved him inside, locking the door behind him.

"Stupid bastar – What the fuck?!" he said, realizing that he wasn't alone. "What are you doing here? And why are you in a bathtub?"

"I'm being made into cereal," Wesker explained, "What about you?"

"I'm being arrested because of you," HUNK replied resentfully. "And, uh… How are you being made into cereal? Is that even possible?"

"How the hell should I know, do I look like I make cereal for a living?"

"Hey, it could be your hobby or something."

There was a long pause.

"What does a human taste like, anyway?"

**Back in the Hallway**

Saul had his ear to the rock that had been in the middle of the floor, "listening" to it.

"It's no use. This rack isn't saying anything."

"That's because rocks don't talk," Birkin muttered, and Saul gently set the rock down on the floor.

"There you go, little buddy." He then put his ear to the cement wall.

"Hey, I hear Twisted Sister!"

"You must be mentally incapacitated," Birkin said.

"I wanna rock. ROCK! I want to rock. ROCK!" Saul sang.

-----------------

_That was weirder than I thought it would be… Although I shouldn't be surprised, everything I write is weird._

_The list of things Chris Hanson was reading was a totally random assortment I thought up as I went along. I've heard of a lot of things, but nothing that involves half of the stuff I wrote (and if there was something, I wouldn't want to know). I'll leave the rest to your imaginations – while I go distract mine._

_Well, I finally got Mikhail in there – I spent all this time trying to think up some way to bring him in, and I finally did. And I actually know where I'm going with the whole prowler thing, which is unusual because normally I ad-lib my own thoughts in this story._

_Oh, and if you're wondering why a leprechaun would make cafeterias into hot dog factories, it was actually a dream I had once that ended up being his job. Why he does it, even I don't know._

_And Saul… man, that show is crazy. No wonder I like it._

_Suddenly Brad comes in._

_Brad: We've been here for almost a year. Can we leave now?_

_Me: No._

_Brad: But you haven't even talked about half of the characters in a long time. If you're not writing about us, why can't we leave?_

_Me: Because I'm getting back to you. Slowly. I've got an idea, why don't you go see what's behind that door over there?_

_Brad goes over to the aforementioned door, and opens it. But instead of eating him, Gravedigger invites him to play chess._

_Me: Well, that'll shut him up. Bet you weren't expecting that._

_Anyway, I've got to be going now – my Mountain Dew is getting warm. I'll be back shortly with a new chapter, that I have no idea what it will be about. But that's the norm._

_So, leave me a review, and let me know what you thought! And Fabio be with you (I love that guy)!_


	12. Chapter 12

_Well, the last couple weeks were… interesting. I got my first credit card two weeks ago, and in fifteen minutes, managed to spend $109 on two games and four books. It would have been cheaper, but the items I was after were old, and I had to order each one from a different person. I'm going to be paying that off for a while… But at the same time, I'm happy – because the two games I ordered are RE 1 and 2 – to replace the old copies that my cousin never gave back to me, that (uttering some choice words)! …It could have been worse, though. had the used games for decent prices – this other site that I looked at had them for like 40 bucks apiece. Oo_

_On another happy note, I finally started posting my retarded video game music videos (most of which are RE). The thing about that, though, is that it inspired me to do something music-related. And that ended up being this chapter. I don't know exactly how it'll be musical, but I'm beginning to form an idea._

_I would have posted this last weekend, but I didn't start it until Saturday night. I was going to work on it a lot earlier in the week, but first I got caught up in trying to make a video without using my computer since it won't let me use my editing programs (gave up because it sucked big time), then moved on to a series of one-sceners, and then spent a lot of time with a bottle of Excedrin Migraine, because I got some bad headaches…_

-----------------

Chapter 12

**In Some Random Hallway Somewhere**

Brad wandered aimlessly through the halls, trying to find his way back to his French class.

(Me: See? You're back in the story now.

Brad: But what happened to Steve Irwin?

Me: Um… For now, let's say he got eaten by that giant alligator from the sewers.

Brad: That leaves a big plot-hole, but okay.

Me: It's my story, and you're stuck with it, so shut up. Besides, he'll be back.

Brad: He will?

Steve Irwin: You bet! As long as there are dangerous critters around for me to talk about, I'll always be back!

Brad: Does that mean I'm going to get stuck with him again?)

Anyway, he'd been looking for his class for a while, but hadn't had any luck finding it yet. For that matter, he wasn't even sure which school he was in anymore. Everything pretty much looked the same, given the fact the school was just a bunch of rooms made from cinderblocks. And nothing was marked – except for in Braille.

He was pretty sure he was still in the middle school, he just didn't know where. That's when he came to two big doors.

"Is this the auditorium? Maybe there's someone who could give me directions."

He opened the doors and was greeted by the sound of… an audience clapping? The lights were dimmed everywhere except for the auditorium stage, where a bunch of chairs were set up in a row. And some guy with really long hair was walking back and forth, a microphone in his hand.

"Welcome to The Jerry Springer Show. Obviously, I'm not Jerry, but I am a Heavy Metal legend, and I'll be standing in for him today."

Brad turned to leave, but before he could even touch the doors, the spotlight shined on him.

"Ahh, here's our first guest of the day, Brad Vickers. Get down here, Brad!"

Brad just stared at the doors. He'd seen a lot of strange things, but this one was making him question his own sanity in a profound way.

"Come on. The doors are locked from the outside, you have nowhere to go – aside from the stage," the guy with the microphone announced, and Brad slowly walked down to the stage, and then up the stairs before the host forced him to sit down. "Welcome to the show."

"What's going on? And how do you know me?"

"We're filming The Jerry Springer Show, and we've been expecting you."

"Uh… How did you even know I would come here?"

"Because I know things."

"Are you spying on me?!"

"Anyway, I'm the stand-in host for today, Bruce Dickenson," the man said, changing the subject.

"Oh, you're the front man for that band," Brad replied, totally forgetting what just happened. "Break on through to the other side!"

"That was The Doors."

"Um… Goddamn, will I declare! Have you seen the light?"

"That was The Grateful Dead."

"Er… Everywhere I go somebody I know wants to come and kick it with me?"

"Aaron Carter… You have no idea who I am, do you? I'm from Iron Maiden, ya know, the band with the monster named Eddie for a mascot?"

"… The last time I saw you, you didn't look like you did back in the '70s."

"Whatever you say. So, you're on the show today, and this is quite an interesting story I've heard about you, old chap."

"Are you coming onto me?"

Bruce stared at him. "I'll pretend you didn't just say that…"

Brad shrugged.

"Okay… Now, you're here today to talk to someone - "

"I am?"

"That you apparently offended."

"I did?"

"Say hello to our next guest, Mimicry Marcus."

The audience clapped, and Mimicry Marcus came out onto the stage, seating himself at the other end of the row of chairs.

"What is that thing?" Brad asked.

"That's Mimicry Marcus."

"I heard you the first time. But what is it?"

"A guy made of leeches."

"And I'm supposed to have offended that thing? I don't recall talking to anyone made of leeches."

"Well, according to him, you did. He doesn't like you very much, because you called him 'Christopher Walken'."

Brad looked over at the monster. "… He does kind of look like Christopher Walken. With a little less hair…"

"So, why'd you call him that?"

"I never called anyone Christoph - wait… Were you that guy who called my house and didn't say anything?"

The monster shook its head no.

"You are! This jerk called my house every night for a week and never said anything! And I didn't call you Christopher Walken, I said I'd get Christopher Walken if you didn't quit calling me!"

"Isn't that just terribly interesting," Bruce said apathetically.

All of a sudden, a blonde woman in a 50's style dress with a hairdo to match, came running onto the stage. "Mike, something horrible is happening! IT'S THE APOCALYPSE!"

"Lady, first of all, this isn't the set of The Stepford Wives. Second of all, that isn't Christopher Walken. It's a man made of leeches."

"Oh. Okay," she said happily, leaving without a further word.

Bruce looked at Mimicry Marcus for a long time. "… You might not be Christopher Walken, but can you do that dance from the "Weapon of Choice" music video?"

**In the High School Library**

The Merchant stood at the checkout desk, feeling cheerful and wondering exactly why he was here. When he got hired, all the principal told him to do was go to the library. And somehow he ended up at the desk, checking out books for people. Either way, he was happy.

"Welcome," he said to a guy who came up to the desk with a huge pile of books. "What're ya taking out?"

"Books for my project about making drugs," he said innocently.

"Hahaha, thank you," the Merchant replied, handing him the stack.

Just when he was beginning to think that things were going to be just like they were back in home sweet home Spain, there was a scream from within the book stacks. A girl came running out, holding a red-stained book in her hand. "Somebody just hit me in the head with this book!"

"Now that's a weapon," the merchant commented.

"And it cut me! Oh, wait a minute… That's not blood, it's ketchup," she said, wiping ketchup from the burger she'd just eaten off her hand.

"Hey! Who used all the paper in the printer?" another girl asked, holding up a six-inch stack of papers that had been on top of the printer, after sticking some new paper in. "They all say 'All homework and no school closings make me peg people in the head with books'."

"Stranger, stranger!" the merchant exclaimed, "Now that is a mystery."

"Whoever did it must still be in the library," ketchup girl said, and the merchant scratched his bandanna-covered chin thoughtfully.

"It like a bad game of Clue or something," printer girl added. "We could be up against Colonel Mustard, Professor Plum, Mr. Green…"

Suddenly she got nailed in the head with a book and passed out cold on the floor.

"Yup, he's still here," ketchup girl said, also to get spiked in the head with a book and passing out.

The printer came to life, spitting out some more papers. The merchant went over to it and picked the first page up.

It was a lunch menu.

He dropped it as the printer stopped, but then it started again. This time it was a message.

"Prepare to get pegged."

The merchant dropped the paper, deciding it was about time to arm himself with something. But it didn't occur to him that he was already completely armed – instead he grabbed a laptop off the nearest table. "Stranger in the library with a laptop!"

**Mire, But Souls Sucked Away by Willy Wonka… In the Home EC Room**

Ashley watched another one of her classes make pizzas. Very, very messily.

She didn't feel the need to step in anytime soon, although the class was slowly beginning to get out of hand. There were a lot of arguments going on, some kids making fun of someone who accidentally stabbed themselves with a particularly sharp fork, a couple kids chucking mushrooms at each other, and one group making a really disgusting-looking pizza that smelled like Crunch bars and dishwater.

She was starting to stare around the room at random things because she was extremely bored. Then she spotted a copy of Les Miserables on the table and picked it up.

Inside the old book, someone had scribbled various notes on the pages, especially pertaining to their dislike of one character Javert, about whom there were many bad jokes written in the margins. Each chapter had been retitled, and even some of the characters' names were scratched out and written over. She began reading about a group of people now called Beef Wellington, Crème Brûlée, Mountain of Pastry and Gravy Roach fighting with a rope and trying to climb something, and then, a little later on, a group called the ABC – which now stood for Alcoholic Bears of Christmas.

Flipping through pages, she eventually came to a chapter renamed 'Mire, But Souls Sucked Away by Willy Wonka'. Strange title.

She didn't think anything of it until…

"Hi."

She looked down and shrieked. "Are you some kind of deformed midget Willy Wonka?"

"No," Dinky the lawn leprechaun mumbled, sick of being mistaken for things he definitely wasn't. "But I am here to take your soul."

"What?"

"Just kidding. I need hot dogs."

"Okay…" Ashley trailed off; staring into space while Dinky ran off with the stockpile of hot dogs from the fridge. There was one thing on her mind, and it wore a lot of purple and had red hair. "What if Willy Wonka really does take your soul?"

Somehow it made total sense to her. The guy always did seem sinister, especially when Gene Wilder played him. And he'd been created by a guy who mentality could easily be taken into question and wrote about weird things… like giant peaches, roses screaming, a guy turning himself into a bee…

One of her students came up to her, waving his hand in her face. "Excuse me… Hello? Did Willy Wonka take your soul or something?"

"He does take souls? Hm, I think I'm going to go to the library…" she replied, getting up and leaving the room.

"What about our class?" the kid called after her.

**In the Bathroom, Next to the Other Auditorium**

"You want to play 'I Spy'?" HUNK asked, pacing back and forth in the middle of the room.

"No," Wesker said, "Quit asking. You've been asking me over and over for the last two hours."

"Well, I have to do something to pass the time," he replied. "What do you want to do?"

"Sit in complete silence."

Five seconds later…

"Boring."

"Well, at least you can walk around, I'm chained to the wall!"

"At least you're not going to jail."

"Actually, he is," somebody said.

They both looked over to see Chris Hanson, leaning against the door casually.

"… How did you get in here without us noticing?"

"I do a lot of stuff like that," he said simply. "Anyway, hi, my name is Chris Hanson - "

"We already know that," Wesker said, and the reporter got annoyed.

"You didn't let me finish. I'm Chris Hanson, and I'm from To Catch a Con Man."

"Wait, but I thought you were from To Catch a Predator," HUNK said.

"I do con men, too."

"Okay, so how am I a con man?" Wesker asked.

"You reported that guy as a pedophile, which you knew wasn't true. That's, like… perpetrating a fraud or something," he replied matter-of-factly. "So, now you're both going to jail."

"Why am I still going to jail?" HUNK said, "I didn't do anything."

"Because we don't like you. So you're taking a one-way trip to Superjail."

"Isn't that a really creepy cartoon?"

"Yeah – but it's also a real place, right next door."

"What is Superjail?" Wesker questioned, giving them both a funny look.

"You don't want to know. But I think you'll fit right in there," Chris Hanson said, nodding.

A couple minutes later…

"Why are you still nodding?"

---------------------

_Okay, this chapter was really… Weird. At least I'm getting back to those people from a long time ago. I'm having a tough time thinking of what I want to do with them, though…_

_I'm not sure why I put Mimicry Marcus in here – I wasn't originally thinking of doing much with RE 0, but he got worked in there… He does kinda look like Christopher Walken… And the whole Jerry Springer bit, well, I was thinking of an old story I wrote about Jerry Springer, and it made me want to do something with that. Plus, I still occasionally watch that… Just when I want to laugh at people's stupidity, though._

_The parts about the Merchant and Ashley I wrote around 2am this morning, so I was really tired… And apparently thinking of Clue. I thought I needed someone in the library, and using the Merchant gives me the chance to play with his super-annoying monologues. Ashley's part came about when I was looking through my copy of Les Miserables for inspiration ('cause I wrote a lot of funny things in there) and I got the thing going with Willy Wonka. I don't know where I'm going with that, but I'll figure something out…_

_Superjail – man, am I looking forward to watching that tomorrow. I think I can easily get addicted to that show if it becomes a part of the normal Adult Swim line-up._

_Well, I know this chapter was a bit shorter than usual, but I've been unmotivated to work on anything I have here lately. Next chapter should be a lot better – and make more sense. Anyway, leave me a review and let me know what you think – and maybe a suggestion, because my brain has, like, short-circuited! And thanks for all the reviews so far – without you guys, this story probably would have never gone anywhere!_


	13. Chapter 13

_Ugh. This week was kind of boring. All I really did was read a lot… and laugh at really strange things… Then yesterday I spent an hour staring at a queen Bumblebee that somehow found her way into my living room… and then smashed her to death. I feel really bad about killing her, but I'm scared to death of bees and I couldn't think of anything else to do. If I could have, I would've caught her and let her go outside, like the house mice my three cats keep trying to catch and eat. Why couldn't I be scared of something else? Everything people are normally scared of, I think are cool – like snakes and spiders – but something like a bee sends me screaming. Only when I come face to face with one, though. I actually like watching them pollinate flowers, as long as they leave me alone. (Shudder)_

_Um… I'm not sure where this chapter is going to go – because my mind has been preoccupied with tons of other stuff, like the season finale of Ugly Betty (which made me cry) and messing around with making videos for a saloon-sounding song from my favorite movie (Once Upon a Time in the West – yes, I like westerns). All I'm really sure of is that it's going to be seriously weird, and maybe a little scary. It depends on what I do… and when I go to bed, 'cause I've been staying up super-late Fridays just to work on this… namely because I've been slacking off the rest of the week. Oh well, I need a bit of a vacation from the computer sometimes._

_I'm also sure that this will have Superjail in it - damn, that show was creepy, gory and strangely funny for something so graphic and disturbing. And possibly a spoof of the Quiznos song that my best friend and I wrote a few years ago when we were bored (and I'm now making videos to… I'll make a video for, like, anything. Oo)_

_Anywho, prepare yourselves for the weirdness. It's bound to be there._

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Chapter 13

(Uh-oh, it's the unlucky chapter… And I just had the misfortune of watching something on TV I won't be able to erase from my brain for a while… Eww… Time to go stab out my mind's eye now.)

**Outside of the School**

It was still pouring outside, but the state troupers had gotten really bored standing around waiting for the rain to stop, so they decided to take the two criminals over to the "drop-off point", as they kept calling it, ahead of time.

So here they were, all five of them walking along in the rain, the chain still attached to Wesker's ankle because the troupers claimed that they didn't have the time or energy to actually take it off, just remove it from the wall.

They walked until they came to what looked like a large sewage pipe in back of the school.

"Here we are," one of the troupers said.

"What is this?" HUNK asked, eyeing the pipe.

"It's the entrance."

"Are you serious?"

"Stop asking questions," the trouper replied, shoving him hard enough that he fell down the pipe headfirst.

"Was that really necessary?" Wesker said, and the trouper just shrugged.

"I don't know. Are you human scum?"

"What?"

Then he got knocked down the pipe. And landed on HUNK, who'd just gotten to his feet.

"I hate this town," HUNK muttered.

"Where the hell are we?"

"How should I know? It's pitch black in here."

They started walking around in the darkness, until…

WHAM!

"Damn, where'd this wall come from?" Wesker grumbled, feeling around for some discernible features. There was a sudden click, and a blinding light filled the passage as the wall moved aside. "O…kay…"

They stepped into a white room, the wall moving back into place behind them. At the far end of the room, was a table with a small green bottle on it. Next to that was a note, saying "Drink me".

"Hey," the green bottle said, "Take a sip of me."

"Hmm," HUNK said, "Should we drink it?"

"Are you retarded? Who drinks something that they don't even know what it is?"

"I'm delicious!" the bottle said, but they ignored it.

"I was just trying to figure out what to do. There's not much else going on here."

"Then don't do anything. If you don't do anything, then nothing should happen."

Then a trapdoor opened and they both fell again… This time landing in a heap on a carpeted floor.

"I think I have rug burn on my face," Wesker said, and they were greeted by a pleasant and slightly sinister, if not somewhat effeminate, voice.

"Welcome to Superjail!"

**In the Warden's Office**

They both peered up to see a guy in a purple suit. With a purple top hat. And a pink bow tie. And a seriously goofy smile with more than a couple missing teeth.

"Who is this freak?"

"I'm the warden," he said happily, like he hadn't even noticed being called a freak. "Alice, why are these two gentlemen here?"

Alice, a hulking redhead that would easily be mistaken for a man if it wasn't for the lipstick, glared at them. "The one's a con man, and the other's an idiot."

"I'm not an idiot!" HUNK defended, and Alice cracked him on the head with her nightstick.

"Shut up, punk."

"What exactly is this place?" Wesker asked, looking around as he got up. "There's a lot of rainbows everywhere…"

"Superjail is my vision to perfect the justice system. It's the most effective jail ever – guaranteed to set you straight or mutilate you horribly… or kill you…" The warden trailed off, looking at the ceiling thoughtfully with a creepy smile.

"What's with the whole carnival/rainbow décor, though?"

"That's to foster a positive environment."

"You are a weirdo."

"Now fellas," the warden said, "Why disturb the peace in such a nice town with your deception and stupidity?"

"Quit implying that I'm stupid!" HUNK shouted.

"I said shut up!" Alice replied, grabbing the chain that was trailing from Wesker's ankle and starting to strangle HUNK with it, as well as pulling Wesker's foot right out from under him and making him land on his face.

"This place is really getting on my last nerve," he said sourly, glancing back at the asphyxiated mercenary that he assumed was probably beginning to turn blue.

"You'll get used to it," the warden said cheerfully, "In fact, I think you'll come to love it."

"I'll die before I ever love any place with this many rainbows."

"Don't be so sure."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, Jared!" the warden called, and a short guy in a brown suit with a huge head, a funny looking mustache and a pock-marked face came running in.

"Yes, sir?"

"Take our two newest inmates to get their uniforms. And this one - " He pointed at Wesker, whispering inaudibly to Jared, who looked rather confused and disturbed.

"Whatever you say, sir. Come along then," Jared said, heading for the door. Alice let go of the chain, and HUNK hit the floor, wheezing loudly.

"I'm not an idiot," he rasped.

**Walking Through the Halls of Superjail**

Jared led the two men through the maximum-security corridors of the jail, passing cell after cell.

After what seemed like several hours…

"We're almost there," Jared said, pointing ahead, although the hall appeared to go on for many more miles.

After what seemed like even more hours later…

"Okay," Jared panted, starting to slow down considerably. "Maybe I miscalculated the distance…"

"This place is a complete hell-hole," Wesker said.

"A bright and colorful hell-hole," HUNK added. "I wonder how most of these people ended up here…"

They suddenly became aware of someone singing nearby. As they continued on, the song got louder.

"… Walk on in, you will get a dollar off. Then you will puke. Spew will fly everywhere, all over the room. So go to Quiznos Subs. Come with a gun and hold up the register in Nevada or California…"

"That voice sounds familiar," Wesker said, going over to the cell where it was coming from and looking inside. "Irons?"

Indeed, it was Chief Irons, singing and paging through a book entitled 'Crappy Art Through the Ages'.

"Somehow, I'm not surprised."

"Wesker, what are you doing here?" he asked, setting the book down and coming to the door.

"What are you doing here?"

"That's none of your business."

"Then I'm not telling you why I'm here, either. For that matter, don't tell me period. Given the fact that it's you, the reason would probably psychologically scar anyone who hears it."

"Stop talking about it!" Jared said, covering his ears. "I already had to hear it once, I don't want to hear it again!"

"What's up with that?" HUNK asked, pointing to Jared, who was now running around in circles.

"LalalalalalalalalalaIcan'thearyoulalalalalalalalalalala!"

"Well, that confirms it," Wesker said, "It was that bad, huh?"

"Sick dog," HUNK said, shaking his head.

"Oh, right. Like you've never done anything terrible," Irons said, and they thought for a moment.

"No, nothing like that. I might be a horrible person, but at least I'm normal," Wesker replied.

"Same here," HUNK agreed, "And we're not obsessed with bad art."

"The art I like isn't bad!"

"Name one piece that's known for being well-liked."

"There's… … …"

"That's what I thought. Let's get away from this psycho."

"Go to hell," Irons said, going back to his book.

"As long as I wouldn't have to see you," Wesker said, as the former chief resumed his singing.

"… So go to Seven-Eleven, and then you'll decide not to go there. Then you'll go to jail, and you'll become a jail floozy. Break on out, and ten years later you'll end up working at a Quiznos Subs. Then you'll die and go to…"

**At the Destination It Took Them, Like, a Year to Get To**

Wesker hated this place with every fiber of his being, looking at the uniform he had to wear. "I'm going to burn this place to the ground, seriously."

HUNK took one look at him and laughed. "You look like Rainbow Randolph or something."

"The warden thought you'd look good in a rainbow jumpsuit," Jared said. "At least you weren't here when he wanted bunny costumes for all the inmates…"

"I wish I could stab myself in the head…" Wesker mumbled to himself.

**Back in the School, in Some Random Hallway**

Birkin was getting really annoyed by hanging around Saul. Not only was the guy's accent really strange, he also constantly made references to things that had nothing to do with their present situation. And he wouldn't shut up about this scantily clad woman he was in love with that hooked up with a 70's-style pop star.

"Fallopia is like an exotic flower," he said dreamily, "I want little more than to spend my life with her."

"If you have not realized this by now, I don't care," Birkin said tetchily.

"Then tell me all about you."

"No."

"Fine then, scientific jerk."

"Ridiculous and irksome geologist."

They walked in silence for a long time.

"Look," Saul said suddenly, "There's another rack!" He pointed to a rather large rock sitting on a table to the side of the hall. "Maybe it knows something!"

"Not again…"

Saul ran up to the rock and started listening for anything.

"How many times must I clarify that rocks are not capable of speech?" Birkin asked gruffly.

"Do you want to find your friend or not?"

Birkin thought and nodded.

"Then trust me. Say, rack, have you seen any blond guys with sunglasses around here?" He listened for a long time, and then seemed excited suddenly. "The rack says that your friend was being taken to Superjail. They passed through half an hour ago."

"All right. Then how did the rock come to be on the table?"

"Uh… She says she's being harvested for geodes by the Earth Science class. That's awful! We've got to save her!"

Five minutes later, they were in the process of liberating the rock, Saul carrying the very heavy thing around out back of the school in the rain, trying to find a spot "she" liked and failing. Finally he found the perfect spot, and went to put the rock down. Unfortunately, "she" slipped, and went rolling down a hill, right into the river.

"Ooh, the mother rack won't like that…" Saul said. "Sorry!"

"Could we please continue with our main objective?" the soaked Birkin questioned, and the geologist nodded.

"Let's go find your friend now. According to the directions I got from the rack, the entrance should be nearby."

"Uh-huh," he replied, still not quite prepared to believe that rocks could talk.

After a moment of silence, Saul started humming idly. And then singing. "Kokoro no koe de sandanjû no yô ni utai tsutzuketa."

He suddenly stopped in his tracks. "… Wait a minute… I don't know Japanese."

--------------------

_Okay, that ended up being almost all Superjail. Well, what can I say? That showed caught my imagination in a net made of rainbows. I'm still creeped out by the fact that the warden enters his office on a rainbow, though… Rainbows are made of light, how is that even possible?_

_Anyway, I didn't really intend to do a "single-sided" chapter, but that's what I got. The next one will be normal, though. And I'll finally get back to that prowler thing…_

_Well, I finally squeezed Chief Irons in here. I almost didn't bother, because let's face it – that guy should never be allowed near a school. But Superjail is a perfect place for him. It's scary with horrific violence and gore (balanced out with the carnival/rainbow theme) and is generally disturbing. Just like him. And at least he made one appearance… Singing our Quiznos song…_

_And the song Saul was singing in the end was an excerpt from the theme song to FLCL (I miss that show –it's one of my favorite animes). I've been dabbling in Japanese again, and it always makes me want to hear my collection of anime music… And write in Hiragana…Now that I think about it, there was a lot of Adult Swim programming in this chapter…_

_That's it for this chapter. I'm going to go see about working on some of my other things… Although that seems unlikely, because I'm not really inspired right now… And then I'll be back with more, hopefully sooner than later. In the meantime, leave me a review and let me know what you thought! And eat an imaginary cookie, too… I've been in the mood to bake lately…_


	14. Chapter 14

_Man, I've been feeling really out of sync lately… Maybe that's why the other night when I was brushing my teeth, I accidentally went to spit the water into the wastebasket…I'm even feeling it when I write – everything just seems so… blah…Oh well, I've been toying with the idea of writing a series of short stories (which I'll probably ditch right now) and I've started a story with Alaska Kennedy that should be very weird, yet very entertaining ("Restaurant Evil"). Hopefully writing will help me get out of this rut…_ _Other than that, I'm going to get back to Chris, my friend and myself in this chapter. She's been wondering what ever happened to us, so I guess I'll fix that…I've been avoiding the task for… seven chapters, now. __And be forewarned – this chapter jumps around a lot, namely because I ended up working on it late and I was in a hurry to go to sleep. That's what I get for starting a campaign in Warcraft when I should have been typing…_

_-------------------_

Chapter Fourteen

**Outside of Chris' Math Class**  
Chris finally understood exponents… sort of… While he attempted to explain them to the Algebra class, the two girls he had persuaded to help him had occupied themselves in the hallway, having what seemed to be a discussion with Nosferatu.  
"Mmmmwwwwuuuuuuhhhhh," Nosferatu said, and Vee the author nodded.  
"Hhhhheeeehhhh. Wwwaaauuuhhh. Uuuuuggghhhh," she replied.  
"Uh… Did you just say something?" her friend Brit asked with a quizzical look.  
"I have no clue. But it sounded neat. Wait a second, I have an idea…" She started digging around in her messenger bag, and pulled out a CD player. "I have recordings of zombie squirrels from Conker's Bad Fur Day on here."  
"Why would you tape that?"  
"I dunno. I think I was making a documentary…"  
"Mwwwuuuuhhhhh," said Nosferatu.  
"Hhhhhhhmmmmm," said Vee.  
"Wwwaaauuuhhhmmmmwwwaaaauuuhhhhaaaahhhheeeeeehhhh," said the CD.  
"Weirdos," said Brit.  
_Rustle, rustle_ went the potted plant.  
Brit stared at it. She didn't recall there being a plant there when they'd first entered the hallway. And it was large and weird-looking enough that it was quite noticeable. "Hey, where did that plant come from?"  
"Err… Maybe the school garden?" Vee replied, not bothering to look at it.  
"So, what's it doing?"  
"What do you mean?"  
The plant was slowly dragging itself across the floor with its tentacle-like vines, coming towards them.  
"Well, that's a first. Hey plant, whatcha doing?"  
The plant made a shrieking sound, which didn't seem remotely possible.  
"I don't speak plant."  
It shrieked again.  
"Maybe it's hungry," Brit suggested. "Give it some food."  
"I don't have any. Besides, what would a monster plant eat? Actually, hold that thought… Plant 42 ate humans or something. So maybe this does, too?"  
"That might be why it's inching towards us… I don't really want to find out."  
"I have an idea. We could find something to feed it, and see what happens."  
"Like what?"  
"Well, we could give it one of the gym teachers…"  
All of a sudden one of their old friends walked by. "Hi, Vee. What happened? Did the Kool-Aid Guy finally stop attacking you?"  
"Sure, whatever you say. Hey, we're trying to find something to feed this plant, and we think it might be carnivorous. Have any ideas?"  
"Hm. Try the green gym," he replied, moving away from the plant when it edged nearer.  
"Okay… Thanks."  
**In the Green Gym**  
The two of them and Nosferatu walked into the green gym, which was eerily empty, except for one racquetball court where two zombies, a man in a tuxedo and a woman in a dress, were walking into the glass door repeatedly.  
"Why do they look like they just got married?" Brit asked.  
"Aww, they're cute! I'm going to call them Zsa Zsa and Willittodie," Vee said happily.  
"… Did anyone ever tell you that you are seriously weird?"  
"Yeah, you tell me all the time."  
"Anyway, what are we supposed to do with them? We need to get them to the plant somehow."  
"I don't want to feed them to the plant – I like them too much. Maybe I'll keep them as pets…"  
"Do you know how much your mom would freak out? Remember what happened with Cuppy?"  
"Poor Cuppy… His little top hat doesn't have an owner anymore…" Vee said sadly, then suddenly perking up. "Anyway, you've got a point. Okay, let's make them into zombie plant chow."  
"Alright. I'll open the door, and we'll lead them back to the plant."

**Back in the Hallway, Next to the Math Class**  
The three of them managed to lead the two zombies back to the plant without anything horrible happening… Yet.  
"Um, I think we have a problem," Brit said.  
"You can say that again," Vee replied.  
"Mmmwwwuuuhhh," Nosferatu agreed.  
The two zombies refused to go near the plant on their own, being more interested in the two potential humans for dinner instead. And the plant moved so slowly that it couldn't go fast enough to catch up to them.  
"This is like _The Tortoise and the Snail_, or something," Brit muttered, "We need someplace where we can go that the zombies can't get us, but the plant can get them."  
"How 'bout the diving board in the Natatorium?"

**In the Natatorium**  
They walked in, the smell of chlorine hitting them like a ton of bricks.  
"Eww, this smell takes me back to how much I hated learning to swim here in fifth grade…" Vee said, holding her nose.  
"Come on, we have to find the pool."  
"Err… Isn't it behind those doors labeled 'Pool'?"  
They just stared at each other. For a long, long time.  
"Excuse me, can I help you with something?"  
They turned to see the swimming teacher, a guy with an Afro of black hair and super short shorts.  
"No," Brit said.  
"Then can I ask you to leave?"  
"Mmmwwwuuuhhh!" Nosferatu said nastily, grabbing the man with his insect-like appendages and hurling him into a wall.  
They continued on into the pool area.

**In the Pool Area**  
The two girls climbed onto the end of the diving board as the zombies came closer, carefully moving towards the middle where the undead couple couldn't get to them. Nosferatu just hung out on the side, since the zombies wouldn't bother him.  
"It would be sort of funny if we fell in right now," Vee said idly and Brit gave her a dirty look.  
"Don't jinx it."  
The plant was slowly making its way over to the zombies, who were too busy examining the diving board hungrily to notice.  
"Hey! No street shoes in the pool area! And one person on the diving board at a time!" the swimming teacher said, breaking the main pool rule by running inside and slipping on water, skidding right into the wall.  
The plant finally reached the zombies, grabbing each one with a vine, and stuffing them into its foliage, where they disappeared.  
"Bye, Willittodie, bye, Zsa Zsa."  
"I'm not going to ask where that thing's mouth is," Brit said with disgust as the plant made a burping sound.  
"Uh-oh. I think it's still hungry…"  
The plant was now inching its way toward the diving board. They started moving closer to the end of the board, just as…  
"I said, only one person on the diving board at a time! And no eating in the pool area!" the teacher said, coming at them.  
The plant ate him. And then spit him back out.  
"Gross!" he said, "Whose disgusting plant is this?"  
The plant threw him into the pool spitefully.  
Before anyone could react, even the plant, a giant white tentacle came out of the deep end, wrapping around the plant and dragging it down into the dark water under the diving board.  
"Wow, I guess the pool is deeper than I thought…"  
"What the hell was that?"  
"I think it was a squid…" Vee said. "Maybe we should leave."  
The three of them got the hell out of there.  
"That's right! Get out of the Natatorium, you nuisances!" the swimming teacher called after them.  
The giant squid suddenly rose up out of the pool, staring at him with a colossal eye.  
"That's it, I'm quitting this job."

**Back Outside of the Classroom**  
"Well, that's over," Brit said with a sigh. "Can we leave now? … Vee? Vee?"  
Vee was staring at something. Make that someone. "Bill Nye the Science Guy?"  
"What?"  
Indeed, there was Bill Nye the Science Guy, wandering around the school. "Hi," he said in a friendly manner.  
"I've been watching everything you do on TV since I was a kid. I'm, like, a huge fan."  
"Really?"  
"Yeah. My ninth grade Academic Earth Science class was full of your fans. But our teacher said you were too cool for us."  
"Academic Earth Science? I am too cool for you," he said. "Nah, just kidding."  
"Hey, I'm proud of my semi-Geek status. So, what are you doing here?"  
"I'm looking for something," he responded simply.  
"Uh, okay. And that would be?" Brit questioned.  
"Nothing."  
The two girls exchanged looks.  
"What's that thing?" Bill asked, pointing to Nosferatu.  
"Oh, him? He used to be a scientist."  
Bill stared at them. No one talked for a long time.  
"I'm leaving now," he said, turning to walk away.  
"No, wait! I want to talk to you some more!" Vee said, following after him as he began to sprint.  
Brit watched them run off, then turning to Nosferatu. "Now what?"  
The monster shrugged.  
"I guess we should follow them."  
They walked off in the direction their friend had followed the TV host/scientist.  
Chris came out into the hall and looked around. "Where'd they go? I still can't do that exponents thing…"

-----------------

_Okay, and I'm gone. Somehow it seemed fitting that my exit from this story would involve Bill Nye, because I've been obsessed with him forever. And he's going to have a role in part of the story in the near future – plus it's going to be a really weird scenario._ _The whole 'Kool-Aid Guy' bit was from my senior year of high school. I dyed my hair candy-apple red about a year ago, and for the whole time it was red, my one friend would ask me everyday if the Kool-Aid Guy had attacked me. I wonder what he would have said if I had gotten to dye my hair green…_ _Me with pet zombies – ha, now that would be funny. The closest I ever came to that was Cuppy – a cooked fish head I kept in a jar of alcohol. My mom didn't like him, although she thought the top hat I made him was cute. I think she threw him away, though… Oh well, I can always go back to the restaurant and order another fish._ _The Natatorium – ugh. I hated that place, and I had to pass it everyday, walking into the school. I actually had a dream about it a couple weeks ago, where they put sharks in the pool… I actually didn't mind the swimming teacher, I just thought it would be funny to pick on him. I don't know if a giant squid would fit in that pool, though…_ _I might actually use that squid in something else… I was watching some show about giant squids and got inspired to base a monster on one when I heard they grow up to 40 feet in length. Wouldn't want to run into that… And why it would choose the plant over two people that were right in front of it, I don't know. Maybe it mistook the plant for another squid. __Well, anyway, I've got to go. The story will be back to normal next time, and hopefully it will be less one-sided. In the meantime, leave me a review and let me know what you thought!_


	15. Chapter 15

_Sorry for the delay in updating – I sort of got caught up in working on some other things the last couple of weeks, and making plans for when my best friend comes to stay with me again ('cause she lives an hour and a half away now)._

_Ugh… I've got no idea what this will be about (seems like I say that a lot lately), because I've been draining my energy into co-writing Restaurant Evil and watching Hell's Kitchen (Chef Ramsey is a total psycho, but we'd probably get along just fine). From the ideas I have, I'd say this is going to be rather random in some way… And probably shorter than usual, but that happens every once in a while._

_Also, there's a couple of characters I borrowed from other stuff in this one: Augra from The Dark Crystal, and Spikey McMarbles from Home Movies (I use a lot of people from Adult Swim shows in this… Eventually I want to have Peter Griffin from Family Guy in here, too, and maybe somebody from 12 oz. Mouse)._

_Anyway, this chapter goes out to everyone who's ever reviewed this story (you know who you are, obviously, unless you have amnesia) because you've really made this story quite a hit, but especially my dedicated reviewers – the ones who never fail to review – because without you… Why are they showing a commercial about my town on the NYC news? Anyway… Without you, I probably would have ended this a long time ago. And the story just turned a year old on the 4th of July, so yay!_

------------

Chapter Fifteen

**Next Door, in the Depths of Superjail**

Chief Irons was still trying to look at his art book, but his new cellmate wouldn't let him.

"How about a hug for Spikey?"

"No, I'm busy."

Spikey McMarbles, a green sock puppet with black spiked hair, button eyes that didn't match, and arms that didn't match either for that matter, wouldn't take no for an answer. "Come on, your friend Spikey doesn't get a hug?"

He rolled his eyes, turning to face the annoying thing. "What is your obsession with hugging?"

"It makes me happy. You want me to be happy, don't you?"

"I could really care less," he murmured.

"Please? Pretty please with marbles on top?"

"You, with the hugging and sticking marbles up your nose, sheesh! And people think I have problems!"

"Oh come on! Just this once?"

"Fine," he replied belligerently.

"Mmm," Spikey said, hugging Irons' face. "I LOVE TO HUG!"

"Alright already, get off!"

But Spikey continued to practically maul him.

"Uh, look, a bag of marbles!"

Spikey kept hugging him. "That one didn't work last time, remember?"

**In the Hall by the Gym**

Carlos was planning on returning to his duties of teaching gym, still wondering whatever had happened to Leon, when he heard a voice that sent chills down his spine.

"Moldy, mildew, mother of mud's muck, daggled and fraggled and breath!"

He turned to see someone anyone could recognize (if they've seen her before). Augra! Also known as "Olgra" and "THE OPRAH!". A terrifyingly ugly woman-like creature in a red dress, with one eye, rams horns, the vaguely feminine voice of biker on steroids, and the physique of Buddha.

"AHH!" Carlos screamed, having never seen anything quite as hideous as her in Raccoon City.

"Stochye, stochye! Ah, me a gelfling witch!" she replied.

"What do you want?" he asked nervously, trying not to puke just looking at her.

She put her hands on her hips, and looked around. "What's it for? Hmm? Hmm?"

She suddenly popped her eye out of its socket, and held it up to get a better look at him.

Carlos almost died.

"Your mother was a good friend of mine. She made me your god mother."

Carlos promptly began to vomit. Augra waited patiently until he finished. "Can I continue now?"

He nodded, and she popped her eye back in.

"I've come a far distance – all the way from the town of Newton, to this scary little mountain ghetto – just to find you."

"Wait, isn't Newton only twenty minutes away?" Carlos knew his local geography.

"It takes a lot longer than twenty minutes when you're on foot," Augra said gruffly, taking a few steps back and going to sit down. "UuuggghhHAA!" she did her infamous "straining-to-bend-her-knees" call.

Carlos tried to pretend he hadn't just watched that painful-looking act. "Okay. So what are you here for?"

"You want to know what this is all about? Is that it, you don't know?" she paused dramatically. "You've never looked at the Heavens!"

"Err… What does that have to do with anything?"

"I meant to say Raccoon City."

"But I did look at Raccoon City – I was there."

"Would you shut up and let me finish? You're ruining the poetic element!" she snapped.

"Sorry, resume."

"Everything in Raccoon City is here. Doing as Raccoon City did. Crime, pharmaceutical companies, S.T.A.R.S., yyyes!"

"Are you going somewhere with this?"

"… Have you been listening to anything I say?"

"No… Not really… I've sorta been staring at your eye…"

"That's it – you're a lost cause. I'm leaving. But I'll be back!"

**In the Cafeteria**

Annette was beginning to think there was nothing worse in the world than watching hundreds of kids eat in a short period of time. Not to mention the food was rather nasty itself…

She was standing by the counter idly, ignoring the weird sounds that had been coming from the pans of sloppy joe meat since she had begun to heat it earlier, and reminding herself repeatedly that after this she'd never have to come to this strange school again.

She was almost completely zoned out when one of the most hideous creatures ever walked up and began looking her over with a nasty look on its face.

"What are you?" Annette asked, trying not to sound like she was about to scream.

It seemed insulted, opening its eye wide and putting its hands on its hips huffily. "I am Augra, the gelfling witch! And I've come to get rotten fruit to throw at a dunce who doesn't pay attention."

"Wait a minute…" she said slowly, "That sounds familiar…"

Then she suddenly gasped, and took on an irate tone. "William told me that I speak too dramatically, and he used 'Augra the gelfling witch' as an example… He was comparing ME to YOU?!"

"You also look like Martha Stewart," a student commented as he walked by, and Annette started to seem even more riled.

"MARTHA STEWART?! That creepy, criminal, cooking maniac?!"

"Did someone call my name?" Martha Stewart asked, coming up.

"… Were you here the whole time?"

"No. Whenever someone says something bad about me anywhere in the world, I teleport there to kill them."

"Did you say 'kill them'?"

"No, you silly thing. I said… uh… 'grill for them'."

"Uh-huh…" Annette murmured.

"I have an idea," Augra said suddenly. "We should form a group."

"A group of what?" Martha asked.

"A singing trio with two women who look like each other, and they are both really creepy, like the third woman."

"I'm not creepy, am I?" Annette asked. Neither of them answered. "AM I?"

**In the Orchestra Room**

_Author's Note: This part contains some song spoofs that might be disturbing. Just warning you._

Ada had been asked to substitute for the high school chorus teacher, and since the auditorium in either school was being used for other things, she had to hold class in the orchestra room.

"So, what are you doing in chorus right now?" she asked, the teacher having neglected to leave her any form of syllabus.

"We were practicing our songs for the concert in two weeks," someone offered.

"Alright. Do you have a set order, or do you just practice them randomly?"

"Set order."

"Why don't you all start singing, and if I need to, I'll stop you," she suggested. "On three. One, two, three…"

The kids began to sing. "Bitch, bitch, bitch, that's all you ever do - "

"Whoa, whoa – Is that what your teacher has you singing??"

"He says that it'll keep the audience's attention."

"Okay… Err… Why don't you practice another song?"

The students began again, this time to a tune she recognized as the SpongeBob theme. "Oh, who is the stupidest guy around – Darth Vader! He loves to shit on rocks and piss on the ground – Darth Vader! Darth Vader, Darth Vader, Daaarth Vadeeer! Darth Vader, coming to Nickelodeon in three weeks! The stupidest, most dumbass-iest guy around! Be there, and be dumb!"

"Was that a commercial?" Ada asked.

"Look at me, I'm naked!" the orchestra teacher shouted, jumping out of the middle of the group and ripping his pants off.

"You missed your cue," one of the students said, and he just shrugged.

"Whatever. I'm going to go make my students practice scales now. Give me a ring if you do that song again," he said, leaving.

Ada wasn't sure what to say. The students continued singing. "Oh, oh, it's magic, you ho. Never believe you're not slow - "

"Isn't that one a bit offensive?"

"Our teacher thinks it's funny."

"Well, you're teacher sounds like a lunatic."

"Do you want us to sing something else?"

She nodded.

"You better watch out. You better not kill him. Better not scream, I'm telling you why. Profion is coming to town. He's making a scene, and screaming it twice, gonna find out who's funny and who has a cheerful mental hold on you. Profion is coming to town. He has a good idea when you're sleeping, he wants to know when you're awake…"

"Oh come on, that one didn't rhyme once, and that was half of the song."

"You want to hear one that rhymes?"

"Sure, try me," Ada replied. It was going to be a long day.

"Look into your head, and you will find, your brain is completely dead - "

"One that's not offensive?"

"I love rotting piles of hay, ten thousand phone calls in a day, oatmeal that tastes like wood, and terrible movies I think are good. And I love Drew Carey, too."

It was going to be an extremely long day.

**Back in Superjail**

Spikey was still hugging the Chief.

"I hate you so much."

"Everyone's entitled to an opinion," Spikey replied.

"Yeah, well, my opinion is that if you don't get off me in a minute, you're going to die."

"You're not a very nice person."

"You just realized that? … No, I mean, I'm nice. I'm one of the nicest people ever."

"Sure you are."

"Why did you say that sarcastically? You don't believe me?"

"No. Hey, did you ever see my movie about not sticking marbles up your nose?"

"Yes. You showed it to me five times yesterday!"

"Want to watch it again?"

"No! Now get off me!"

"Nope. I still feel like hugging someone."

"Why don't you show me how you stick marbles up your nose again?" the Chief groaned, just wanting to get him off his face at this point.

"Nope."

"That's it, once you let go of my face, you are dead."

"Thanks for telling me. Now I think I'll just keep this up."

"Damn it."

------------

_Well, that wraps up this odd chapter. Spikey is one weird sock puppet, but that is one of my favorite episodes… I almost feel sorry for the Chief._

_When I did Augra, I was trying to use some of her movie dialogue – re-worded, though. It's hard to believe that movie came out, like, twenty-one years before I was born…_

_Seriously, Annette does remind me of Martha Stewart. And she does talk in a sort of overly dramatic way, sometimes, which is why she reminds me of Augra, except without so much of the attitude._

_Finally worked Ada in. I've been trying to do that for so long, but I couldn't think of a class for her. Then I got thinking about when I was in chorus, and that gave me the idea. And I couldn't resist putting my old orchestra teacher in there (I played the violin in fourth and fifth grade, but I'm not very good anymore), although he was a little too refined to ever do something like that… The songs were all spoofs I wrote. The first one wasn't to anything specific, but the others were: the original SpongeBob commercial (from three weeks before it premiered – when I was in middle school), the third one I'm not sure what it's called, but I've liked it for as long as I can remember, Santa Clause is Coming to Town (Profion is the arch mage from the Dungeons&Dragons Movie), a song by, I think, Bryan Adams, and "I Love" by Tom T. Hall (my grandfather loved country music, and Tom T. Hall was one of our favorites, second only to George Jones).If you'd like me to do more spoofs in future chapters, suggest some songs, and I'll try to use them._

_Okay, got to be off for now, but I'll be back soon. Thanks for a year of laughs and weirdness from me and my three cats (they keep me company while I type)._

_Leave a review and let me know what you thought!_


	16. Chapter 16

_Hm… I'm not sure what to write… I'm on this sort of crusade to update whatever I can before my friend comes to stay here for a week (although I'm not sure exactly when that will be), and this was one of the things I wanted to work on. I don't have any idea who I'm going to write about this chapter, but I'll mess around with some ideas and see where this ends up. I've been so focused on my other stories lately, I sort of neglected this. Well, that and I've had writer's block on it for what feels like a bazillion years… Huh, if a bazillion were a real number, I wonder how much that would be…_

_This chapter will probably be short. I really didn't spend much time typing this week (I couldn't think of anything to write about) so I'm doing this all in one night. It might not be very funny this chapter, either. I'm not feeling very humorous this week – not sure why._

_Anyway, I should get to work here. First though, I think I'll do some quotes that might inspire me… I'm in a good enough mood for that today._

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Chapter Sixteen

"Just got home from Illinois. Locked the front door, oh boy. Got to sit down, take a rest on the porch. Imagination sets in, pretty soon I'm singing. Do do do looking out my back door." Creedence Clearwater Revival

"So, cool things are being bred. Annoying things are being dead." Mike Rowe

"This is worse than I thought! There goes the neighborhood." A couple of AI citizens in Grand Theft Auto: Vice City

"Burnt documents, sweet!" Me on CVX

"What it their fixation with people who have no eyes? Are they trying to empower blind people?" Me on the RE series

"Is that a meat locker with windows?" Me on Jet Li: Rise to Honor

"It's Nemesis-sss. That's his sexy name." My best friend, Brit

"It looks like a subway bathroom decorated to look like an office." Me on a room in RE4

"Where I come from isn't all that great. My automobile is a piece of crap. My fashion sense is a little whack and my friends are just as screwy as me." Weezer

**In the Orchestra Room**

The songs the students had been singing were sort of disturbing, to say the least. And as far as Ada was concerned, if they were going to sing weird songs, they might as well be about people she knows. So she set out to write some new material for them.

"Okay, class, why don't we try some new music?"

The students nodded in agreement, apparently not really concerned by the sudden change in curriculum.

"Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer – my version. Sing along with me. Nemesis got shot by Siddhartha walking the streets of Milford, Christmas Eve. You can say there's no such thing as… Uh…Uh…"

"Who's Nemesis?" one kid asked.

"A big, ugly monster," Ada replied.

"And who's Siddhartha?"

"A character in a book called Siddhartha."

"What's it about?"

"A guy who spent his whole life trying to achieve Nirvana, but bad stuff kept happening to him - "

"Like what?"

"Well, he joined a sort of cult thingie, and they did really weird stuff, then his best friend abandoned him to follow Buddha, then he got married, his wife split, she died, he found out he had a son that hated him and had to take care of the little punk, then he eventually found Nirvana after meeting Buddha," Ada finished, trying to catch her breath.

"What does this have to do with Chorus?"

"Why do you keep asking questions?"

"Are you really qualified to be a substitute?"

"That's it. Go to the office," she said, getting annoyed. The kid got up to leave, running off a list of questions as he headed for the door.

"Why am I going to the office? What am I going to do there? Am I going to get detention? What should I do in detention? Where is detention held? What is detention, anyway?"

Ada slammed the door behind him. "Alright… Anyone else have a question?"

Everyone in the room raised their hands.

"Why did I even ask?"

**In Nemesis' Art Class**

Nemesis had finally managed to make it back to his art class after losing the fat assistant principal completely. In his absence, the students had painted the words "Nemesis is McLovin" on the black board in acrylics. The monster chose to ignore that, and find something they could do that wouldn't involve tagging any more blackboards, or destroying the room in other ways… Although he really liked destruction.

He collected some various items from around the room, piling them on a stand in the middle of the circle of tables.

"Um… What are we supposed to do?" someone asked, and he decided to demonstrate.

First he held up a ball of clay. Then he picked up a fired piece that was probably supposed to be a teapot, but looked more like an ashtray. He dropped it on the floor, where it broke into a million pieces. He grabbed a fist full of broken pieces and crushed them into the wet clay, forming what looked like a squishy mace. Then he chucked it across the room, where it knocked over a shelf containing more ashtray-looking teapots, which shattered on the floor.

"O…kay…"

"You want us to do all that, and then obliterate something?" questioned another kid.

He shook his head no.

"What do you want?"

This time he picked up an old shoe, squirting an entire tube of Cadmium Yellow acrylic paint into it. Then he mixed together a can of pepsi and several crushed eggs, pouring the concoction over the shoe. Then he chucked it out the door where it hit the wall, creating a huge paint-dissolving mess.

"Now I really don't understand."

Nemesis covered his eyes with one hand, and growled. Now he picked up a flashlight and jammed a plate of macaroni and cheese into the battery compartment. Then he wrapped it in tissue paper, dipping it in varnish, and rolling that in origami paper. He threw the disturbing looking mess into the kiln and turned it on.

"Maybe we should just sit here and do nothing."

Nemesis did not agree. Instead, he grabbed the box of origami paper and threw it in the air.

"Confetti?"

"Do you want to have a party?"

Nemesis nodded, now hurling a collection of colored chalk into the wall for no apparent reason, other than to make a dust rainbow.

"If you wanted to have a party, why did you do all that other stuff? None of that really made any sense."

Nemesis shrugged. Apparently, he had a different idea of how to announce a party than most people.

**In the Library**

"Driving that train, high on cocaine. Casey Jones, you better watch your speed…" the Merchant was singing idly, walking through the stacks of books.

The library was empty to his knowledge, except for the weird kid who was still evading him. He rounded a corner, catching a glimpse of something moving and threw the laptop without a further thought. Unfortunately, it hit an old woman who'd been standing there looking for a book.

"Whoops. Maybe I should try something else."

He pulled out an infinite ammo rocket launcher.

Something moved. He blew an entire stack to smithereens.

Something else moved. He set off a chain reaction of computer explosions.

Something moved near the librarian's office. He blew the copy machines to Kingdom Come.

This really wasn't getting him much of anywhere.

"I think I've got it, stranger."

He set bombs all around the library. Pretty soon the entire room was a smoldering pile of unidentifiable technology and paper products. And the kid was still nowhere to be found.

"Well, that is most definitely odd."

With that, the grey-haired principal walked in, looking in awe around the room. "Holy broccoli cannoli, what happened here?! I could swear I put way more funding into the library than this… Well, guess this place is doomed. I'll put the library funding towards more astro-turf and flat screen TVs."

He strolled out whistling happily, while the Merchant gave him a funny look. "This town is very, very strange."

While his back was turned, the kid crept out of the half-melted librarian's office. And then chucked a thesaurus at the Merchant… But missed.

"Damn. Oh well, I guess I'll go kick the pipes under the sinks until they burst. That'll be funny."

-------

_Wow… That was weird, even to me. I'm not sure what got me on the kick with the book "Siddhartha" in the first part… That was really odd._

_With Nemesis, don't ask. Thank God we never made anything remotely like that in art class when I was in school. We did make teapots, though. I made one of a Grunty from .Hack//SIGN. I miss those classes…_

_Ah, "Casey Jones" by The Grateful Dead – I knew I'd find some stupid use for that song sooner or later! Although, why there, I don't know. Don't ask me what happened to the two unconscious girls or the old lady – I would assume they probably got melted, etc. On the other hand, our school did spend way too much money on astro-turf and flat screen TVs…And DVD players…Plus, for the record, I sure as hell hope there is no such thing as broccoli cannoli. Or spaghetti trees._

_Well, that's it for now. If you've got any ideas, maybe give me a suggestion, 'cause I have none for this story right now. Anyway, I've got to run, so leave me a review and let me know what you think._


	17. Chapter 17

_Let's see… What am I doing here? I was actually going to try to update this last week, but since the library was closed Saturday and I had to go Wednesday night, I didn't really have much time to think of anything for it. Then I set out to update a couple other things instead and that really didn't work too well either, actually…_

_I'm sort of sad this week. "The Universe" on the History Channel ended, and I'm seriously addicted to that show – I love studying solar and star systems, and that show was crazy awesome for me… Then again, I still have a poster of facts about all the planets on my bedroom door that I've had since elementary school… Oh well, maybe Nova will make some more shows about space. Man… I'm a serious science nerd, or something…Huh, maybe I'll eventually put one character in an Earth Science class – we learned a lot of fun things about the universe in there…_

_Anyway, all that aside, I have some form of an idea what I'm doing in this chapter – for once! Although, I don't really know how it will come out. I guess that's for all of you to tell me. It might end up being slightly one-sided, but everybody's got a chapter like that every once in a while, right? I'm trying to decide when and how I want to get back to the people I sort of left off with and then never got back to. I just don't know what's going to happen with that… And don't ask me how, but when I started this chapter, Bob Barker crossed my mind… And having been a fan of "The Price is Right" my entire life, I have an idea for him in this story – maybe just this chapter, though. The celebrity appearances in this are starting to scare me…_

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Chapter Seventeen

**In the Hospital **(Wow, I left off on this in chapter five…)

The short, half-bald man in the lab coat stared at them in a rather unfriendly manner, looking them up and down. "You're a little late today."

"I was trying to find you, because our teacher didn't leave a note about where I was supposed to go today. I didn't know where you were. Oh, and this is Mr. Sera, our substitute. Mr. Sera, meet Jim the phlebotomist."

Luis was about to shake the phlebotomist's hand, until he noticed the bloody latex gloves he was holding.

Jim just gave him a funny look and then turned back to the student. "Let's see… What department should I have you visit today?"

"We were actually heading for CT and Radiology when we ran into you."

"Why don't you go see if Rob is there, then? I imagine he wouldn't mind showing you something."

**In CT and Radiology**

The student lead Luis back to CT and Radiology, which seemed to be a constant bustle of people running around with X-rays and various other materials. They entered an area that looked a lot like a waiting room, but there was a CT scanner in one corner, and a wall covered almost completely with a range of packaged needles (most of which were dreadfully large and grotesque-looking) and tubes… for what purpose, he wasn't sure, but it gave him the heebie-jeebies just looking at it. The girl seemed to feel the same, because as they passed it, she held a hand up next to her face to block her peripheral vision from that direction.

In a small room, about the size of a large closet, was a man probably around seven feet tall, wearing a long white lab coat that could have doubled as a bed sheet, hunched over a computer.

"Stupid piece of shit, why won't you let me log in?!" he muttered, and the girl held back a laugh. It seemed like this might be the guy's normal behavior. "Come on, you bastard!"

Luis cleared his throat to draw the man's attention to them, wondering why a doctor would use such language on the job.

"Oh," he said turning around and observing the student, "It's you again. I can't believe this, the hospital can afford a $1.4 million machine, but they can't work out the bugs in their shitty network!" He waved his hands wildly, trying to indicate the CT scanner and the computer.

"Um… We could go see if there are any other departments that need help if you're too busy, Rob…"

"No, I'll get this piss-ass garbage to work somehow. In fact, you're just in time. They'll be setting up for a lung biopsy any minute. Make yourselves comfortable."

They seated themselves in rolling chairs that were rather worn out, and watched as several nurses, a man with white hair, and a stretcher with an old woman entered the room over the period of a few minutes, while Rob continued to curse out the computer.

"We're about to start. This might be really disturbing to you, so if you feel uncomfortable at all, feel free to quietly exit the room, okay?" one of the nurses said to them as she passed through, and they nodded, watching the white-haired man explain the procedure to the old woman.

"Do you want to leave?" Luis asked the girl, and she shook her head.

"Nah, I'm fine. I've seen much more disgusting things."

Luis could agree with that – he'd seen a lot of things he really didn't want to, like human vivisection, which although it was illegal pretty much everywhere, he'd witnessed it numerous times. This, on the other hand, he wasn't sure he was ready to watch. The white-haired guy was just about to stick one of the scariest needles ever into the woman's back when Luis got up.

"I'm gone." With that, he ran out of the room.

"What the fuck is that guy's problem?" Rob asked.

**Meanwhile, Back at the School **(I haven't touched this since chapter three)

Jack Krauser had long since given up on managing to teach the DARE class anything about drugs and alcohol, and having also gotten really sick of hearing the DARE song, he made the class promise they would shut up long enough for him to hook the hi-tech projector up to the computer. Unfortunately, he couldn't get the hang of the complicated process, and relinquished the job to student who knew about this kind of stuff. He was now going through different clips of TV shows on the internet, looking for something to keep them occupied.

"D – I won't do drugs," a student sang quietly, and he snapped at him.

"I said not to sing that terrible song again."

After a moment, another student chimed in. "A – won't have an attitude."

"R – I will respect myself."

"I SAID do NOT sing anymore."

A few more moments passed.

"E – I will educate me now."

"If you don't shut up, I'm going to come over there and show you what it's like to have your skull crushed against the floor," he warned, and the students fell silent, probably not taking him seriously, but having run out of lines to the song. "Alright, I found a show that's perfect for you. I'm going to put it on, and your all going to watch it and not sing anymore."

"What is it?"

"It's called 12 oz Mouse."

"God no, that show is annoying!" someone said, and he stood up like he was about to kill somebody.

"Get over it. You'll watch it and enjoy every second. Or you get a one-way trip through the window," he turned to the kid manning the projector. "Is it connected?"

The kid hit a button, and after some weird gibberish appeared on the screen, the clip came up.

"Good. Let's watch the show now, okay?"

Nobody answered. Satisfied, he started the show.

A little while later…

"I have read all these books and they are good books. Out of all these books, I would say that they are all these my favorite. Hi, and hi to you. Leave us alone, we're reading. But all these books are the same. They're all titled 'Rules'. So? So, I mean, are you reading 'Rules' or 'Rules'? And if you've read one, don't you sorta already know what the other one's about? Selur eht era selur," discussed two rather odd and badly drawn characters on the screen, while standing next to a bookshelf full of books called, what else, "Rules".

"I don't get it," one kid complained, "Why are all the books the same? And what is 'selur eht era selur'?"

"I don't know, nor do I care. And it's 'rules are the rules' in reverse."

"Hey, Buttermilk. Is this your new car? This looks like your new car," said one of the generic city dwellers from the show.

"Why are they so repetitive?" posed another student.

"I don't care, do you understand that? Shut up and watch," grumbled Krauser, who was watching mostly out of boredom, and also he had nothing else to do.

Some more time later…

"Where does the fire truck go, go, go? And when does the hand know, know, know?" sang a few generic citizens before they got hit by a car.

"Wait, how did they know about the fire truck? And the severed hand that's running around?"

"Weren't you paying attention? They're not real people. They're simulated, just lines of code programmed into the emulation that the characters are trapped in. They know everything else in the programming, and therefore, if it's not real, they know about it."

"But I thought the hand was real… It did get chopped off in real life, didn't it?"

"Duh. But I highly doubt there are detached appendages roaming the streets in real life."

Just then, he looked towards the door after having spotted something out of the corner of his eye, seeing a "disengaged" arm laying on the hallway floor. That wasn't too creepy, but what was, was when it suddenly waved to him.

"… I think I'm getting a little too into this show…"

**Reentering the Janitor's Quarters**

Steve was sort of tired after all the running around he just had to do, after getting a report that the library had exploded. He wandered back into the large room full of rejected school supplies and cleaning chemicals, expecting to sit back and take a break for a while, when he heard an instantly recognizable voice.

"Come on down!"

He stared in near horror, as Bob Barker stepped out of the back part of the room, holding his microphone from The Price is Right. "Hi there, I'm Bob Barker, and welcome to… Wherever it is I am."

"Uh…" Steve started, having some trouble thinking of what to say. "…What are you doing here?"

"I got tired of retirement," he explained, flipping through the pages of a defaced book idly.

"But you just retired. A really short time ago."

"Do you have any idea what it's like to have nothing to do all day? It's boring."

"Well… Isn't that why people have hobbies?"

"Why don't we play a game? I bet we could make a rendition of Plinko or the Mountain Climber using some of the stuff in this room."

Steve was trying really hard to comprehend this, and getting nowhere at all. "…"

"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" He turned towards the readers, and addressed them. "Help control the pet population. Please remember to spay or neuter your pet."

"Who are you talking to?" Steve was getting creeped out. First Bob Barker showed up, and now he was talking to the wall.

**Back in the Hospital**

The student had caught up with Luis, who was hanging out by the X-ray room, fairly certain that he was safe from the toxic levels of radiation on the other side of the wall.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he replied, "I'm just not in the mood to watch that right now."

"Eh, okay. Well, we could always go to another department. Eugena might still be working today, if she didn't go to a meeting again."

"Who's Eugena?"

"She's the Physical Therapist. You'd like her, and this one patient there – her daughter is a physicist."

"Really?"

"Yeah. People in this area are normally on the stupid side, so I never figured a physicist would come from here."

He wasn't really referring to that, he was actually thinking of Eugena, but that was interesting, too… Sort of, anyway.

"PT is on the first floor. It would be faster to take the stairs."

She led him to the stairwell, which was guarded by a heavy steel door, like they were trying to keep people from going in… Or coming out.

They entered the stairwell, hearing the echoing footsteps of people running from one floor to another hurriedly, nearly getting knocked back down the stairs by rushing doctors as they ascended. When they finally stepped out onto the first floor, they rested for a moment, having gotten bumped into a few too many times in the process of coming up.

The floor wasn't terribly crowded, although somewhere nearby, a TV was blaring way too loud for anyone not to go deaf, accompanied by the sound of a radio playing songs from the 80's. The student went up to the desk, looking around. "Is Eugena here today?"

"Yes," said a blonde woman behind the desk, "She should be in the back."

"Thanks. Come on, Mr. Sera."

They passed through a couple different areas, looking for the therapist, and finally finding the source of the music. A radio on a high shelf in one room they entered was playing just loud enough that it could wake people up on the next floor. The room was empty, except for an elderly man in a rolling chair that appeared to be a cross between a recliner and a wheelchair, kicking his feet to the tune of "She Blinded Me with Science" on the radio.

"Hm. Where is she?" the girl said, examining the room, while Luis watched the old man. It was just a little weird that he seemed to be rocking out to such a… weird… song. For that matter, he wasn't even sure if the man was awake. He looked dead.

He leaned closer to get a better look at the man… And somehow got kicked right in the face. "Ugh… Why do I keep getting hit by stuff?"

He moved nearer to the door, hoping to avoid any more head injuries, just to get the door flung open, nailing him right in the face.

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_Figured I'd end there. It's a bit late and I've got to get up early. I feel good about getting back to stuff that I haven't touched in a while, but… this chapter was really weird. The phlebotomist was my first "boss" when I interned in the hospital, and he was really scary. He used to look me up and down from head to foot when he was talking to me, and I have no idea why. Rob, on the other hand, wasn't scary – he was terrifying! He was a giant, gruff X-ray tech, and he was so serious he could make Fidel Castro cry. And he cursed a lot. I did get to sit in on a lung biopsy, although I didn't get to see much, because they started late and I had to run to catch my bus halfway through. And that old man was real – I'm still wondering if he just liked the tune of the song, or if he liked the song itself._

_12 oz Mouse – that is one of my favorite shows ever. Yeah, I suppose that makes me weird, but keep in mind, I was also a huge fan of The X Files, Brimstone, Millennium, Freakylinks and other various weird, paranormal-type shows that have long since been canceled… I also used to like Buffy, but only the first season. Why my mom let me watch that when I was ten is beyond me, but she did let me watch those other shows too…_

_I wish 12 oz had been more popular. I think the main reason people hated it was (aside from their problem with the style of art) was that the plot was so scattered and cryptic that they simply didn't have the attention span to piece it all together. Well, at least I got it. For a show created by a guy when he was drunk, that was a pretty good mystery. And at any rate, I still have Superjail to look forward to in July 2008._

_I miss Bob Barker. I love Drew Carey, but I'll always miss Bob. He's one of the first things I can remember from when I was a kid._

_Okay, this is getting long… You know what to do; come on down, and leave me a review, telling me what you think! I'll update again sometime soon, hopefully._


	18. Chapter 18

_Wow, I'm sort of on… an updating frenzy, for having writer's block. Well, with this, anyway. I don't have much to watch during the week, aside from reruns, so I type until 12am (when I actually get on). Then Saturday I read stuff, and Sunday I sleep and watch TV. Now that I have a new show to watch on Adult Swim and two new seasons of other shows, I feel sort of excited that I have something to watch besides news._

_This is weird, my two most reviewed stories, this and "RE4: Crazy Doesn't Begin to Describe It", have been getting a few bad reviews. Well, "Crazy" got two bad reviews a year ago, and then it got two more within the last couple months. This story has gotten two bad reviews out of the current overall number, both within the last few months. I'm not really bothered by it, although I have been replying to the bad reviews, which is something I usually don't do (it's not worth it). Anyhow, I want to take a moment just to thank everyone who supports this story, because without you, it never would have gotten this far. Thanks and huzzah (I like that word way too much)!_

_Also, please, as a sort of Public Service Announcement to everyone who is listening, whatever you read, no matter who wrote it or how bad it might be, don't leave people a bad review. Use constructive criticism if you must, but be nice. Nothing says "I'm an anti-social jerk" more than a nasty review. If I don't like something, I don't review. Simple as that._

_Hm… I'm not totally sure what I want to write, so I think I'll play around a bit, hoping my creativity will return to me now. And I had an idea for an Anatomy & Physiology class, but I'm not sure if I'll get to it._

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Chapter Eighteen

"I write and make people laugh every single day of my life. When you can claim to do the same thing, go tell it to someone who gives a damn."

The final line of my response to the last bad review

**In a Room Amidst the Various Vo-techs**

Mr. X had been assigned to watch a class called Jewelry Design because the original substitute had gone missing and was reportedly arrested. He really didn't have any idea what was going on, or what he was supposed to do, but he didn't care. He was a huge, scary monster, and that's all that mattered to him.

Normally, he would kill anything that moves, but having somehow been convinced that was a bad thing, he just sat at the teacher's desk, studying the students as they ran past with an assortment of dangerous-looking objects. Some of them were sawing shapes from sheets of different metals, others were heating the tips of dentists' tools with makeshift oil lamps and carving designs into wax rings, while a few were almost burning their hands off with acetylene torches in the back.

Something about the idea of teenagers being allowed to use fire in school amused him, and he laughed, or at least he thought he laughed. Every student in the room stopped what they were doing and stared, because the giant pale guy in the trench coat was making a sound like a buzz saw underwater.

When he stopped "laughing" and looked up at them, they all immediately went back to work, pretending that nothing happened. He was about to get up and walk around a bit when a blond chick walked in, reading a book.

"Oh," Ashley said, looking around. "I must've taken a wrong turn somewhere." Then she spotted the tall creepy dude at the desk. "Excuse me, where am I? Did I wander into the wrong school, or something?"

Mr. X didn't like people getting lost. To him, that was worse than murder.

He didn't answer (not that he really could, anyway) and went to the back, grabbing a box-shaped lighter and one of the rigs with the oxygen and acetylene tanks, dragging it behind him as he approached her. She watched as he turned a knob on each of the tanks, and then fiddled with knobs on the torch. Then he stuck the tip of the torch in the lighter, pressing a button.

Ashley jumped when the torch suddenly burst into flame. Still trying to figure out what he was doing, she watched him adjust the levels of oxygen and acetylene until the flame turned blue. Then he came at her.

"What are you doing? First of all, that flame is one step below white hot, and two, you're not supposed to be coming at people with fire!"

He didn't care. He just really hated it when people got lost and bugged other people for directions, and figured burning a map into someone's skin would be a good way to keep them from getting off course again.

"Okay, I'm leaving!" she shrieked, running through the electrical vo-tech as fast as she could.

Mr. X didn't get it. He just wanted to be helpful.

**Back in the Home Ec Room**

Ashley returned to the kitchen portion of her classroom, breathing heavily and clutching her stack of books for dear life. How did one trip to the library result in her getting lost and almost burned to death?

She threw the books on the desk, and fell into the chair, seriously hoping that she would never hear the word 'school' again after this.

During her absence, the periods had changed, and she was now faced with teaching a totally different class. Middle school Child Development.

She got up, heading into the main classroom, where she found a lot of kids, some of which had those stupid plastic babies she remembered from when she was in middle school, all of which were screaming bloody murder.

One of the boys was spinning his baby on the tip of his finger like a basketball, while another guy watched.

"Jeff, the baby is not a pizza."

Ashley couldn't stand the class already, and turned right back around, heading back into the kitchen and sitting down, deciding she might as well read to pass the time. Somehow, in looking up Roald Dahl, she got sidetracked and took out a bunch of Lewis Carroll stuff instead.

"Hm. I really hope that Lewis Carroll isn't as weird as Roald Dahl… That guy scares me."

She opened a book, and paged through it. "'Twas Brillig and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe. All mimsy were the borogoves and the momeraths did outgrabe… What the hell does any of that mean?"

She moved onto something called "The Hunting of the Snark", wondering why most of the story was people babbling.

Right when she was about to hear what a snark looked like, Mr. X punched through the wall next to her, still carting along the tanks. He was really determined to make her a map.

"Oh God, not again!" she screamed running out of there as fast as she could, Mr. X following her, trying to explain through bad sign language that he just wanted to help.

**In an Anatomy & Physiology Class in the High School**

The class stared at their substitute teacher, trying to understand exactly what he was doing. For one, he was covered in dirt and blood, wearing filthy, torn clothes, drooling all over the blackboard, and had a bazooka with him.

Forest, having lost most of his logic, and, well, pretty much everything else when he became a zombie, didn't know what was going on. There were a lot of people around staring at him, but for some reason he didn't feel like eating them. Instead, he was way more interested in licking the chalk off the blackboard.

"Um…" someone began, "Are you okay? Shouldn't you be… teaching?"

Forest thought for a moment. He remembered the concept of teaching… kinda. As a zombie, it was amazing he remembered anything at all.

Choosing to take a stab at this "teaching" thing that he vaguely recalled, he hobbled over to the teacher's desk, finding a book. He leaned forward, trying to get his eyes to focus on the words – and landing face-first on it.

Getting back up with a moan, and slobbering all over the place, he put one stiff finger to the book and began to read. "Mmmmrrrrriiiiibbbb cage… Hooooolllld orgggg… ans… Mmm… Sssseeee?"

He pulled one side of his vest away from his torso, revealing a tear in his shirt, through which the students could see ribs and muscle. They were all on the verge of vomiting.

He looked at them for a while, rocking back and forth unsteadily. He didn't know what to do from that point, so he decided to do what he did best.

Looking around, he spotted a vial with a sheep's eyeball in it. After about ten minutes of fighting with the cap, he pulled the squishy organ out… And popped it in his mouth like an olive. That's all it took to make everyone in the room sick.

"Err… We were supposed to dissect that!" a student said before running to the garbage can.

He chewed the eye up, the ocular juice running all down his chin.

"Please, for the love of God, stop doing that!"

"You're disgusting!"

Forest didn't think he was disgusting. He was just having lunch.

The thought of lunch made him even more interested in eating, and after swallowing the eye, he found a sheep's brain that looked quite delicious.

While he was chewing on that, the students started chucking plastic bones at him, trying to get him to stop. He didn't pay attention – he was enjoying the brain too much.

**In the Physical Therapy Department at the Hospital**

Luis had his eyes closed for what felt like a long time, listening to the sound of the overly loud radio fade away, followed by footsteps, creaking and Dora the Explorer on a nearby TV.

"Uh… Are you alright?" he heard a woman ask.

"No."

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that. My name is Eugena. You are…?"

"He's my class' substitute teacher, Mr. Sera," answered the student.

"Ah ha," Eugena said, as if making some realization. "What were you doing?"

"Waiting for you. I had nowhere else to go."

"I have to go to a meeting now, but if you come by later I'll have something for you to do, okay? Hope you feel better, Mr. Sera," Eugena said, and he heard footsteps leave the room.

"Are you alright? You were out for a few minutes."

Luis was a little confused. It seemed like he had just had his eyes closed, but finally trying to get up, he looked around and realized he was laying in a hospital bed. Questioning whether or not the day could get worse, he asked the most obvious question.

"What happened?"

And of course, it could.

"Well, you passed out and we brought you to the nursing home, because there were no free beds anywhere else. You were in luck, though, because this bed just opened up. One of the MRSA patients died."

"What?" The last thing he wanted to hear was that he was laying in a bed that could be contaminated by the flesh-eating disease.

"Don't worry. It was a closed bed, so they probably did terminal cleaning in here already. Besides, you most likely wouldn't catch it yourself, you would just become a carrier. I mean, you are healthy, right?"

"Sure. Can we get out of here? This place smells worse than death."

"I'm not a nurse, but okay."

He wasted no time in jumping out of the bed and sprinting for the closest exit, asking himself why they would make old people watch Dora the Explorer and wishing that show would get wiped from existence.

-----------

_I actually wasn't going to end it that way, but I couldn't think of anything to end it with that didn't sound extremely retarded. I really don't know where I was going with that whole Mr. X/Ashley thing, but I have a thought that it might lead back to Dr. Salvador's battle with the math teacher… God, those horrible baby-things. I hated when we did child development in middle school. I was never so happy as the day I found out I didn't have to do that again in high school. I love kids, but that was just insane._

_Well, I got to A&P after all. I loved that class, probably because when I was a kid, I enjoyed looking at Gray's Anatomy… And my mom took books out of the library with pictures of cadavers for me…I actually still have most of the names of the bones in the human skeleton memorized, but that's about all I remember from that class. I do, though, remember the day the teacher passed around the vial with the sheep's eye – I was the only one that actually looked at it instead of just passing it to the next person._

_I think I like zombie Forest as a teacher. He was sort of fun to write about… And it got me thinking about an idea I had for a game about the life of a zombie._

_Eh… The end was sort of boring. Although kind of factual with the MRSA babble. That's the reason I hated the two nursing homes I had to volunteer in – my bed-making partner and I always got stuck with the MRSA beds, and we had to scrub our arms afterwards because we didn't want to take chances. I'm still paranoid about that…_

_Okay, well, I've got to be off now – I have to get up early, and then leave the library earlier than usual so my mom and I can go see Resident Evil: Extinction. She apparently really liked the second one – now I've got to get her to play the games._

_Well, that's it for this chapter. Leave me a review and let me know what you think (and if you see Extinction, tell me what you thought of that, too)!_


	19. Chapter 19

_Well, I think I can officially declare my writer's block gone… I still feel somewhat uninspired, but I've been writing A LOT more than I was, and I started a new short story, too, so I guess I'm back in business. I can't remember a time when I actually updated this story more than one week in a row…_

_As you know, I went to see Extinction last weekend – and I actually thought it was better than the other two. I don't know why, but I just thought it was better. There were quite a few things that sort of bothered me a bit, but I got past that (like their use of music from the 70's – I mean, come on, "In-a-gadda-da-vida" and "Call Alice" ? Even though I've liked those songs my whole life, that was really creepy… And I used "Call Alice" in one of my RE stories only a few months ago…). All in all, it was fairly good. One thing that bothered me, though, was in the theater I was at, when all those people died during the crow attack, no response from the audience. What happened to Carlos, nothing (except from my mom, 'cause she likes the movie version of him). And when that lame-ass cowboy/trucker dude got mauled… suddenly everybody else in the audience started saying "Aww" dejectedly. What the hell was up with that?_

_Anyway, a conversation I had with my friend/writing partner Nonliving-Nightmare before I saw it gave me an idea for a story called "Resident Pancake Head", about people repeatedly trying to kill Alice. Well, that gave me an idea to do a chapter in here based on that story, in the form of a school play/musical dealie. Dunno how much like the story it will actually be (it's a work in progress), although it'll most likely have similar premises, and the same quotes here and there, however it'll be different from the movie plot. I also don't know how long it will be in this – whether it will take one chapter or more. I guess I'll have to see what happens… And where the other story goes._

_Anywho, this chapter I want to dedicate to Nonliving-Nightmare – partly because that weird conversation we had gave me the concept for "RPH" and this chapter – but also because he's a great friend, and an inspiration to me. Thanks for being such a good friend, and this chapter is for you._

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Chapter Nineteen

"Apparently 'Resident Evil' drew a lot of attention this past weekend… Not the movie, the Iranian president."

Jay Leno (I just had to quote that)

**In the High School Auditorium**

For lack of anything better to do, the 9/10 and 11/12 Principals had decided to usher everyone into the auditorium (after chasing out everyone who was already in there, and then forcing them to go back inside) and have the Drama club do an improv play based on something called 'Resident Evil'.

All of the substitutes had been tracked down and forced to attend the affair, even Wesker and HUNK, who had been allowed to come as part of a program Superjail was experimenting with.

None of the substitutes had ever heard of "Resident Evil" before, but it sounded like it would be seriously weird. And there was a rumor going around that the characters would be closely based on some of them… Which was both bewildering, and scary.

The lights were dimmed, and a lone girl dressed like a fashion commando came out onto the stage. The spotlight shined on her, and she began to speak.

"My name is Alice, and I was subject to experiments by an evil pharmaceutical corporation. They created a virus that wiped out almost the whole world, turning it into a barren wasteland. I am now wandering the desert, trying to find survivors. The only problem, is that no one likes me."

She walked off the stage, and was replaced by a group of people. A girl wearing a weird hat step forward. "My name is Claire Redfield, and I'm heading a convoy across the country, trying to stay on the move so we don't die. I'm a pretty pissy bitch, so don't mess with me."

**In the Audience**

"That looks nothing like me!" Claire said, crossing her arms grumpily.

"Uh… You do realize they just called you a 'pissy bitch', right?" Rebecca asked.

It took a moment to register. "WHAT?!"

**On the Stage**

Player Claire continued her speech. "I am traveling with numerous survivors that we've gathered along the way. None of them are terribly important to the plot, except for Carlos here."

Player Carlos stepped forward as Player Claire withdrew into the crowd. "I am Carlos. I seem to think I'm a badass, when I was obviously not meant to be, at least on this level, anyway…"

**In the Audience**

"That is so uncalled for," Carlos murmured to himself, while Mikhail and Nicholai laughed at him.

**On the Stage**

A bunch of guys all wearing black walked onto the stage, as the "convoy" exited. One of them, wearing black sunglasses stepped forward into the spotlight while the others remained in the darkness.

"I am Wesker, a tyrant in numerous forms, and something of a serial killer. I have no form of compassion, and really don't care that humankind has virtually been eradicated. I'm fairly hated, but I don't give a damn."

**In the Audience**

"I must say, they really captured my personality…" Wesker said to himself, right before someone punched him in the back of the head. "Hey, come back here, you bastard!"

The guard that was there with the two convicts handcuffed HUNK to the seat, and took off in hot pursuit of Wesker.

**On the Stage**

Player Wesker did something that looked vaguely like a salute, while staring directly into the spotlight.

"Every eye must weep alone till I Will be overthrown… Till I Will be overthrown every eye must weep alone."

Player Wesker receded into the darkness, while the rest of the men in black stepped forward collectively.

"We hate Wesker, because Wesker sucks. We hate Wesker, Wesker so much. Wesker smells bad. Wesker sucks. Wesker, Wesker, we hate you. You're an idiot, and I hope you turn blue… Because you can't breathe. Wesker, Wesker, Wesker, hate…"

Then Player Wesker stepped back into the light, and the group of men in black all ran off the stage. "Get back to work!" he screamed after them, beginning to sing after a brief pause.

"In the night the fires are burning bright. The ritual has begun, Satan's work is done."

**In the Audience**

"Hm. I like the comparison of Wesker to Satan, but the song seems a little out of place… It sounds more like a Saddler thing," Leon was saying to Brad.

What he hadn't counted on was that Saddler heard him.

"What do you mean it reminds you of me? Come here, I'll show you Satan!"

"Oh fuck, Satan's after me!" Leon shouted running off, with Saddler following.

**In Another Part of the Audience**

"What the hell? No one uses an Iron Maiden song in a public production without the record company's and my lawyer's written and verbally expressed consent! This school is getting sued!" Bruce Dickenson proclaimed, storming out of the auditorium…

And then coming back in.

"Eh, I think I watch the rest of this first."

**On the Stage**

"I'm coming back. I will return. I now possess your body and I'll make you burn. I have the fire, I have the force. I have the power to make my evil take its course!" Player Wesker sang, before the spotlight went out and he exited the stage.

Alice returned to the stage, the red lights overhead coming on.

"Ladies and gentlemen, sitting here, eating and drinking and warming a chair, feeling and thinking and drawing your breath, who's sitting next to you? It may be Death."

**In the Audience**

"Death? AHH!" Brad screams, diving under his seat.

**On the Stage**

The "convoy" came onto the stage, and Player Carlos ran up to Alice.

"Alice, where have you been? It's been… Ages."

There was a long pause as they stared at each other, and he suddenly pulled a gun on her. And then put it away. "Just kidding. What happened?"

"Someone trapped me in a Nuclear Power plant and blew it up."

"Oh… Um… It wasn't me," he replied before walking away, whistling.

Two members of the "convoy" set a table behind Alice, and placed a bottle of water on it. Player Claire was passing by when she noticed the bottle of water, and reached for it. Alice, with her back turned, also reached for it.

"What do you think you're doing?" Player Claire asked, pulling a gun on Alice.

"I'm thirsty."

"Well, so am I."

"Well, I saw it first."

"How? Your back was turned."

Then they began to shoot at each other. Alice eventually was covered in blood, but no matter how many times Player Claire kept shooting her, she wouldn't go down. Finally Player Claire got frustrated.

"Carlos, bring out the tank!"

Player Claire tackled Alice, and held her down while Player Carlos ran her head over with a tank.

**In the Audience**

"Damn right, bitch! No one takes my bottle of water!" Claire was shouting enthusiastically, while Rebecca tried to get her to sit down again.

"This play is going to your head or something, Claire. Calm down."

"Calm down? How can I? I just drank a gallon of coffee!"

**Elsewhere in the Audience**

"Wow, that was really mean of me," Carlos said, watching Alice get her head run over.

"Would you actually do that?" Mikhail asked, and he took on a defensive tone.

"Of course not!"

"Oh? Then how do you explain that time you blew up that guy, who took the last case of beer, with a rocket launcher?" Nicholai asked.

"Err…"

**On the Stage**

Alice got up, her head now big and flat… Like a pancake. She walked over to a pool of green liquid and looked into it.

"Holy fucking frijoles! My beautiful head! It's… A pancake!"

"I can't believe she didn't die," Player Claire whispered to Player Carlos.

"Hold on. I've got an idea."

Player Carlos tiptoed up behind Alice, and shoved her. Unfortunately for Alice, the green pool was actually a pool of acid.

"AHH! I'M MELTING!" she screamed, after falling in headfirst.

The "convoy" laughed at her, exiting the stage, while singing. "And it's a great day to be alive. I know the sun's still shining when I close my eyes…"

Alice climbed out of the pool of acid, and collapsed onto the stage floor. The lights dimmed, and the men in black, led by Player Wesker, came onto the stage, gathering around Alice in a semi-circle.

"Gentlemen," Player Wesker announced, "You know what to do."

"No we don't," they said in unison.

"What? I never explained it to you? Damn… Well, grab the body and let's go have a meeting."

**In the Audience**

"Oh no… Where is that guard? … Why did that Redfield chick give me coffee?" HUNK was saying to himself, looking around. "Now I have to go to the bathroom!"

INTERMISSION.

----------

_Well, except for the various attempts on Alice's life, this play is going in a completely different direction than "Resident Pancake Head" – seriously, if you want character bashing, read that. Even if you like the movie characters, it's sort of aimed at both crowds. The really weird thing in that story is the narrator… Which is basically me… But really mean to everyone… Especially Claire, 'cause I don't like the movie version of her._

_The poetry I used is all by W.H. Auden – my favorite poet – and most of it I think is from the 30's…Wesker's song was by Iron Maiden, the poem the men in black recited about Wesker was borrowed from "Home Movies", and the last song was Travis Tritt… Don't ask why I used that, it somehow got going in my head when I was writing…_

_Well, I have no idea where it's going to go from there… I've got to go finish some other stuff now, so that's it for this chapter!_

_I'll be back sometime soon, so in the meantime leave me a review and let me know what you thought!_


	20. Chapter 20

_Huh, how many weeks in a row have I updated this? I must've gotten on some kind of kick with it… Actually, I wasn't originally going to update this story this week, because there are a couple other things I need to update, and a Halloween-themed story I started last year I wanted to continue… But I ended up working on this anyway. I feel so tired for some reason, I've got a lot on my mind right now, and I don't feel much like typing, but I press on. I need something to occupy me._

_I'm going to continue with that strange play, which unlike most plays, will probably have at least one more intermission, meaning it'll be in at least three acts. Which means more bad acting, very odd stuff happening, and of course, people acting stupid._

_Now, I want to take a moment to mention something… As you may know, I occasionally make music videos for stuff. Well, I've done numerous RE videos, most of which are incredibly stupid, and since the audio/video drivers on my computer got deleted I've been downgraded to doing one-sceners. Well, I got screwing around with audio clips from this movie called 'The Final Sacrifice', making random shorts (like one where Leon calls himself a hopeless drunk and Claire sounds like a guy), and in the process, I ended up doing a video using the first game, to Family Guy's spoof of the theme song for The Mary Tyler Moore Show. Now, this will most likely be the only time I ever promote one of my videos in a story, but this video is really, really… odd. It features Wesker singing (in a rather effeminate voice) "That Guy" about the Tyrant to Jill, with some out of place sound effects (cars screeching when Wesker walks around). It's weird, but entertaining – to me, anyway. If you want to watch it, visit the link - which will be provided in the next chapter, because Youtube isn't working for me today._

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Chapter Twenty

ACT II

**On the Stage**

A guy dressed in a white lab coat came onto the stage, and the spotlight shined on him. "My name is Dr. Isaacs. I'm a heartless bastard who's incapable of completing simple tasks, because I have my own thing going on and it sort of cuts into the work time. I should be working on the cure for the virus, but instead I'm messing around with super zombies."

Another guy, dressed in black, came onto the stage, and walked up to Isaacs, giving him a rather dirty look. "And I'm Slater, the guy who should be keeping an eye on him, but I'm not around half the time."

For some reason, probably because the play's director is insane, The Odd Couple theme started to play. The two stared at each other somewhat uncomfortably.

A long period of time passed, while they waited for the song to finish.

"I want - " Slater began, just to be cut off by the song starting again.

Once again, they waited for the song to finish.

"I want to know why - "

Once again, he got cut off by the song.

They waited, both getting noticeably annoyed.

"I - "

How surprising, the song came on again.

"That's it! I'm not doing my part until the song is out of the show!"

He stormed off the stage, quickly followed by Dr. Isaacs.

**In the Audience**

Barry stared at the stage, scratching his head. "Was that actually meant to be part of the show?"

Then he got to his feet.

"Sit down!" someone in the row behind him shouted, and he shrugged.

"Nah, I think I'll go make a sandwich."

Then he walked off, humming The Odd Couple theme.

**On the Stage**

Player Wesker returned to the stage, and all the lights came on, displaying a really badly painted set of a cityscape in the background.

"The future of the world rests solely on the work of… that guy!"

A spotlight suddenly shined on Dr. Isaacs, who'd come onto the stage, and a sprightly tune began to play.

"Diamonds, daisies, snowflakes, that guy! Chestnuts, rainbows, springtime is that guy! He's tinsel on a tree - " Player Wesker was singing, dancing around like someone with no motor skills.

**In the Audience**

Wesker ceased his chasing of the guy who'd punched him.

"Hey… There is no way in hell I would ever sing as girly as that!"

Then he got tackled by the prison guard.

**On the Stage**

"Sable, popcorn, white wine, that guy!"

Player Wesker and Dr. Isaacs began dancing together, and half the audience got up and left because it was so painful to watch.

The only problem was they got forced back inside, and had to resume watching the horrible scene.

"That guy!"

To the relief of the audience, the two then exited the stage, the lights dimming.

A stretcher with Alice laying on it was wheeled out, surrounded by a few people dressed like they'd just come from a Haz-mat version of the OR.

They appeared to draw a large amount of blood from her with a .20 gauge needle, and then handed it to Dr. Isaacs, who for the third time, had come onto the stage… He might as well just stay there.

"Ah, finally! Now the cure will be complete!"

Unfortunately for him, though, a rogue ninja came running in, grabbed the needle…

"Yoink!"

… And then ran off.

He looked in the direction the ninja had gone, and then took on an indifferent tone. "Whatever. Time to make more super zombies!"

The lights brightened as they all exited, and the "convoy" came on… Singing horribly.

"We got a little convoy, rockin' through the night! We got a little convoy, ain't she a beautiful sight?"

They stopped mid-stage, Player Carlos and Player Claire stepping forward.

Player Carlos started smoking, while Player Claire prepared to make a speech.

"Get there if you can and see the land you once were proud to own, though the roads have almost vanished and the expresses never run…"

She waved one hand to indicate another badly painted backdrop, this time of a ghost town.

"Power-stations locked, deserted, since they drew the boiler fires; pylons falling or subsiding, trailing dead high-tension wires; head gears gaunt on grass-grown pit-banks, seams abandoned years ago; drop a stone and listen for its splash in flooded dark below…" She threw a stone, and it bounced off of something. "Um…"

"Mmm, good dope," Player Carlos said, taking another puff from his joint.

"About the infected," Player Claire said to him, "We should avoid them." And then added under her breath, "As if that isn't obvious."

He seemed relatively unconcerned as he answered. "Avoid then if you please, do the reverse on all occasions until you catch the same disease… If we really want to live, we'd better start at once to try; if we don't it doesn't matter, but we'd better start to die."

**In the Audience**

"Was there even a point to that scene?" William Birkin was asking his wife.

"Why are you asking me? Do you think I actually care?" Annette asked, glancing over at Augra and Martha Stewart, who were punching each other back and forth.

**Elsewhere in the Audience**

"Oh, come on!" Carlos shouted, "I don't do pot! … Although I might… But that's beside the point!"

"They also made you sound like Yosemite Sam," Mikhail added.

"And I don't sound like Yosemite Sam!"

**On the Stage**

The convoy had gathered around one of their own, who was sitting on the floor, rocking back and forth like a nervous wreck.

"I can't believe I'm infected. That means I'm going to die!"

In unison, the convoy began to recite.

"Death like his is right and splendid; that is how life should be ended! He cannot calculate nor dread the mortifying in the bed, powers wasting day by day while the courage ebbs away… Beauty sliding from the bone leaves a rigid skeleton."

"Wow, you're making me feel way better," he said sarcastically.

They all got up and left, the lights dimming for the entrance of a particularly bad-looking Alice.

"I feel like I got hit by a train," she said, wandering around in figure-eights across the stage.

Then suddenly, two men in black with roller-skates on, that were connected by a beard came after her.

"What the hell is this? The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T?"

And if that wasn't bad enough, while the guys on roller-skates were chasing her, the rest of the men in black came out and began to sing.

"Wesker, we sing to thee. We bring our cold, black hearts to thee…Wesker, thy name we praise! We love thy foul and loathsome ways!"

**In the Audience**

"I think I've seen just about all I want to see," Chris said, going to get up, when this unassuming guy next to him jumped up and pointed a gun at his head.

"No leaving until the play is over!"

"Well, what about Barry? He left to go make a sandwich."

"I said no leaving!"

"Okay, okay, I get the picture!"

INTERMISSION.

----------

_Maybe it's just me, but that seemed even weirder than Act one. I have no idea why I put "The Odd Couple" theme in there – that song really annoys me, actually. I'm also not sure what was up with that weird "5,000 Fingers of Dr. T" moment… Maybe it's because I've been wanting to watch that musical for a while now…_

_I still don't know where this is going – it's the most random and stupid play I ever heard, and if anyone ever performed something like this… I think people would run, screaming._

_Ah well, I'm finished with this chapter. See you next time, and in the interim, leave me a review and let me know what you think!_


	21. Chapter 21

_I've been wanting to take a break from this story for a week or two… But for some reason, I can't pull myself away from it. Maybe 'cause I actually know what I want to write for once…Oh well, at least it's getting worked on, right?_

_Sigh…Writing is the only thing that's really making me feel cheerful lately since I've been in significantly low spirits. Normally, music cheers me up, and that hasn't done much to improve my mood – Elton John might have been onto something when he said 'sad songs say so much', but right now, sad songs make me turn the TV volume up and try to ignore them. I didn't even feel this bad when my grandmother died… But then again, she was extremely hard to get along with, anyhow…_

_Well, it's time for Act three of the play – it may go on for a while longer, not sure at the moment, because I don't know where it was going in the first place, and I just took on a new co-writer for "Resident Pancake Head", after getting a request from a fan to help. I have some ideas for further acts, it's just a question of figuring out what to do with them._

_Ah, and if you're interested in watching that video I talked about in the last chapter, I'm still trying to post it - YouTube is being stupid for some reason._

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Chapter Twenty-One

ACT III

**On the Stage**

Alice was in the midst of being wrapped up in the roller-skating guys' shared beard when she suddenly realized exactly how easy it actually would be to just to unravel herself.

She spun around, sending the roller-skating guys right into the backup singers, and right off the stage. Being the last one on stage, she took it upon herself to bore everyone in the audience to death some more.

"There once was a zombie named Zeke; he got stabbed by a spear made of teak. He fell off a bridge located on Allegheny Ridge, and… simply… just died…"

Then she exited the stage. Just to come right back out.

"I forgot! I must find that convoy, and tell them to head north, where there is no disease! … Even though they did try to kill me…"

Then she re-exited.

**In the Audience**

"Mama loves mambo, papa loves mambo…" Ashley was singing for no apparent reason, when Forest ambled over and seated himself next to her.

"Fif… teeeeesss?" he asked.

"Excuse me?! I am not fifty!"

"Nnnnoooo…. From… fifteeeeeessss…"

"What?"

"Ssssoooong."

"Oh, you mean the song is from the '50s? Yeah, I guess it is."

Then Mr. X tapped her on the shoulder from behind. She turned around in her seat, coming face to face with the acetylene torch.

"AHH!"

She ran away screaming, not realizing her hair was now on fire.

**On the Stage**

The "convoy" had come onto the stage, and sat down, pretending to go about cooking cans of food. Player Claire and Player Carlos began discussing how they tried to kill Alice.

"I think we need a new plan," said Player Carlos.

"Yeah. I really want to kill that bitch," answered Player Claire.

Suddenly, the "convoy" piped up in unison. "Claire Redfield took an axe, gave that freak of nature Alice forty whacks. When she saw what she had done, she went back and did another forty-one."

"Wait… Why are you comparing me to Lizzie Bordon?"

**In the Audience**

"Lizzie Bordon? The axe murderess?" Claire shouted at the top of her lungs in an offended tone. "… Awesome!"

Rebecca just shook her head. Claire was certainly beginning to act crazy.

**On the Stage**

They continued. "London Bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down. London Bridge is falling down, my fair lady. Take a key and lock her up, lock her up, lock her up. Take a key and lock her up, my fair lady."

"Hold on, hold on," she said, turning to the audience, and looking around weird. "What's with the Straitjacket reference?"

"What's with the references to old movies in general?" Player Carlos asked.

Someone back stage said something, and they nodded.

"So, what should we do next?"

Before Player Claire could respond, Alice came onto the stage. "Fellow survivors! We need to go north!"

"North to Alaska! Goin' North, the rush is on!" the "convoy" sang before going back to what they were doing like nothing happened.

"Um… Do they always do that?"

"For some reason, yes," Player Claire said. "Anyway, why should we trust you?"

"I have absolutely no idea. But I trust myself, so that should be good enough, right?"

Everyone exchanged weird looks.

Unexpectedly, some girl walked onto the stage, coming up to Alice and punching her in the face. Alice glared at her, and then retaliated by ripping her arm off.

"Oh, my arm," she said apathetically.

**In the Audience**

"Is it just me, or does the acting in this play really, really suck?" Jill asked, turning to look at the person who had been sitting next to her… And finding him hanging from a noose attached to the ceiling. "I'll take that as a yes."

**On the Stage**

The now one-armed girl just stood there for a moment, staring at the spot where the limb had been attached and watching fake blood spurt from it. Then she started fist-fighting Alice for her arm.

Everyone on stage watched with some kind of emotion – but no one's sure which one.

The girl managed to retrieve her arm from Alice, and then went over to Player Claire and cracked her in the face with the severed appendage, before running off, blood going everywhere.

**In the Audience**

"Why did that chick just hit me in the face with a detached arm?" Claire asked, feeling something on her skin. "Is it raining in here?"

"Uh, Claire… That's blood," Rebecca replied.

"Blood?"

"Turn around," someone said, and she did.

The girl from the stage whacked her in the face with the arm, spraying fake blood all over everyone in the vicinity in the process, before running off again.

"I'm going to get you, bitch!" Claire screamed after her.

**On the Stage**

"I got it!" Player Claire announced, "I'll kill Alice with an axe!"

Everybody stared at her.

"Ooh, I guess I said that a little too loudly…"

Alice was standing right next to her, giving her a dirty look.

Player Claire gave her a dirty look right back.

This went on for a long, long time.

"Stage janitor, coming through!" a guy in a white jumpsuit said, pushing a gigantic broom ahead of himself, and chasing everybody off the stage.

The lights dimmed, and the sound of rain and wind was heard. Player Wesker entered.

"Here I am in Tokyo. Don't ask why, I don't know either. This is where my branch of the company is for some reason… Wasn't the sequel for this was supposed to be in Spain? How the hell did it become Japan?"

Somebody off stage throws a shoe, and he moves on.

"Uh, yeah. Well, since the world is populated by monsters, I live underground. Right beneath a sewer. Where there are a lot of big rats."

**In the Audience**

"Get to the point!" Birkin shouted, "Your monologues are horrible!"

Then someone else in the audience called back at him.

"Shut the hell up! You're ruining the mystique!"

"Mystique? That is complete and utter garbage!"

"Who asked you?"

"I have the freedom of speech! I can say whatever I want, whenever I want!"

"Go to hell! I want to hear my backstory!"

"Wait… Albert?"

"William, is that you?"

"Indeed, it is."

"Oh… Okay then, carry on."

"No, don't carry on!" a guy behind Birkin shouted, hitting him in the head with a book.

"I'll be quiet now."

"You're just going to sit there and take that?" Annette asked incredulously, "Get up and fight like a man!"

"I'll pass."

"Fine, then I'll do it!" she said, diving over the seat and attacking the guy.

**On the Stage**

"And even though I'm in Tokyo, for some reason I make appearances in a lot of places I shouldn't physically be in, in this play…"

Suddenly a rat the size of a small dog gets thrown at him.

He picks it up, and throws it back.

"Go to hell, Mulcahy! You're the moron directing the play!"

**In the Audience**

"Isn't Mulcahy the name of the guy who directed a movie based on a series of games that had almost nothing in common with them?" Jill asked.

The hanged guy didn't answer, seeing as he's dead.

"Is that a yes?"

**Elsewhere in the Audience**

"This is the perfect trap," Claire said, standing back and admiring the trap made from a cardboard box, a stick and a piece of string. "And I've got the perfect bait."

She placed a severed arm under the box.

"Uh… Claire, I doubt that will work," Rebecca said.

"Oh come on. It's the 'Headless Horseman Theory'."

"What's that?"

"He was missing his head, and he went around taking other people's until he found his own. The same should work for arms."

"Okay, whatever you say. Where did you get that arm??"

"I dunno. I just chopped it off someone and came back here."

Rebecca inched away from her.

"What? Was it something I said?"

**On the Stage**

Player Wesker had regained his composure, and was attempting to remember his lines.

"Um… Where was I?"

Then the one-armed girl ran by, spraying him with blood.

"Blood, hooray!" he said, twirling around.

Then Slater came walking out. "Hey, uh - "

He hadn't realized he was walking on a slick, blood-covered floor and slipped, falling down, plowing into Player Wesker, and causing both of them to slide right off stage.

They came back on foot, slipping in the blood again, this time landing in a heap. They didn't bother getting up to finish the scene.

"Hey, I think Dr. Isaacs is planning some retarded scheme that will never work."

"Oh? What's that?" Player Wesker asked.

"He wants to build an escalator to the moon."

Then the stage janitor came back, using his giant broom to sweep them right off the stage, still in a pile.

INTERMISSION.

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_This play gets stranger every chapter… The fact that Mulcahy (the director of "Extinction") is the director of the play, sort of explains a lot. Just a weird idea I had._

_The "Straitjacket" reference (which actually includes the Lizzie Bordon thing) was inspired by… Well, watching that movie when I was working on this. Of all the old, old horror movies I've seen (that one's from 1964), that was an excellent psychological thriller. Worth watching, definitely. You know, maybe I'll do a "Night of the Living Dead" reference somewhere… That is a classic zombie movie…_

_That last scene with the blood had me picturing a blood Slip&Slide for some reason… How disgusting… And an escalator to the moon… That is pretty messed up…_

_I still don't know where this play is going – but when it finally ends, I can guarantee it will probably be really screwed up, and possibly scary._

_Yup, that's it for this chapter… Seems like I say that a lot recently… So, see you next time, and leave me a review and let me know what you think!_


	22. Chapter 22

_I'm back for yet another chapter – and still not sure when I'll take a break from this. I just need something to take my mind off what's bringing me down because I'm really torn up inside right now, and it seems like writing is the best form of escape for me. And to top it off, I feel sick. I've been coughing, have nausea and can't get to sleep at night. I thought I might be coming down with something, although if that was the case I'd probably have more symptoms by now. Then I wondered if it was from the stress, but that wouldn't explain all the coughing. Ah well…_

_As if everything I write isn't weird enough, most of the content of this chapter came to me when I was watching 12 oz Mouse episodes I thought I'd accidentally taped over, reading through a creative writing prompt book from fifth grade (I used to write jokes in it when I got bored) and thinking about paging through my "Resident Evil Archives" book. It's going to be very odd, and I've planned a speech by Wesker (the real one) that's supposed to be sort of touching… But will probably be really cheesy, and humorous instead._

_Now, before I get to the story, I want to take a moment to address an issue that came up in the country recently – MRSA outbreaks. I keep hearing about it on the news, and I fail to understand why it's only come to attention now, when the actual outbreak problem started at least two years ago. I want everyone to be careful, because this is a potentially lethal disease. It's usually contracted by people with weakened immune systems (which is why you find it in nursing homes), although having surgery and open wounds are also factors, and some people who are infected don't actually develop symptoms (nurses tend to become carriers). It's most often spread through contact with the mucus membranes (the nose and eyes). The best course of action is to follow good hygiene procedures, wash your hands often, avoid rubbing your eyes or nose with your hands after contact with anything people handle a lot, and if you have an open wound be sure to clean it thoroughly often. I saw and had to work around numerous people with MRSA in the hospital where I interned, and I know how serious the disease is – it really hits you the first time you see one of those oozing, ulcerated abscesses in real life. I've been up close and personal with it; quite literally, if you count the microbiologist that kept sticking petri dishes full of MRSA bacteria in my face. A lot of people probably think it could never happen to them, but I know how real that possibility is, and I want everyone to keep that in mind. I'm going to post this in a few of my stories to spread the word, so if you read more than one of my stories, sorry for the repetition._

_And huzzah! That video I kept talking about is finally up! You can watch it here: __http://youtube(dot)com/watch?vw--jynLqQII__. Just change the (dot)._

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Chapter Twenty-Two

ACT IV

**In the Audience**

The prison guard had managed to haul Wesker back to his seat, where he proceeded to wrap him in chains so he'd be less likely to run off again, while he left the school shortly to head for one of the cafes in town. HUNK still needed to go to the bathroom, and the prison guard really could care less.

"Come on, man! I really need to go. It'll only take, like, two minutes!"

"Whoop-de-do," the guard muttered, turning to leave. "I need caffeine. And as far as I'm concerned, you can go to hell."

"I'm already in hell," he grumbled, looking over at Wesker as the guy walked away. "What are you so happy about? … I didn't think it was possible for you to be happy."

"I can be happy," Wesker answered defensively, "I'm just really picky about it. Anyway, I'm planning on getting out of here."

"How?"

He slipped a hand through the mass of chains, and snapped one, unraveling them as he stood up… And for some reason, leaving them draped over his shoulders. "See you later."

"What the hell?! You just leave me here? I have to go to the bathroom!" he shouted, getting shushed by ten different people. "Shut up! At least you can go to the bathroom!"

**On the Stage**

A teenager dressed like an usher from a movie theater walked onto the stage, a microphone in hand. "Would the man in the gas mask, vaguely reminiscent of the old woman from Ratatouille and Boba Fett from Star Wars put together, please be quiet so the play can continue? Thanks."

As he exited, there was a distant shout of "Bathroom, damn it!" and the lights brightened.

Player Claire came strolling along across the stage, acting like there was nothing going on. Then she spotted a trio of cats, one black and white, one white and grey and one bright and colorful tortoiseshell.

"Aww, look at the cute kitties," she said.

Then a black lab/golden retriever mix trotted out onto the stage, seating itself next to the cats.

"Aww, a dog, too. What are your names?" she asked, looking at their nametags.

"Karely," she addressed the dog.

"Cinders," she addressed the black and white cat.

"Toppyknots? What the hell kind of name is that?" she addressed the white and grey cat.

"Moody," she addressed the tortoiseshell cat.

"Aww, it's a family of pets… I really hope they're not infected…"

The tortoiseshell hissed, and the other two cats joined in, the dog growling.

"Oh crap."

The dog and three cats all attacked her at once, and through some theatre magic, the first three rows of the audience were sprayed with fake blood.

"AHH! Damn it, why do animals hate me?!" Player Claire screamed.

The lights dimmed, and the usher kid from before came out on stage, grabbing Player Claire's arms and dragging her off stage, the animals still attacking.

**In the Audience**

Salazar watched this scene, questioning just how messed up the school district was putting on a play such as this. "What a strange play… Exactly what relevance did that scene have to the plot?"

Mendez shrugged. "I have no clue. I haven't actually been paying attention."

With that, Mendez turned back to the scorched Robert the Regenerator, who seemed relatively displeased with that scene, because he was wheezing much louder and his eyes were glowing ominously.

"What wrong with Robert?" Salazar asked, and the Regenerator roared… Or at least, what was supposed to be a roar, although it sounded more like a frog with laryngitis.

"He says that the world would be better off not knowing about this play. Ever."

As if on cue, Salazar jumped to his feet – which since he was a midget, meant that he was now even harder to see. "I know what will make it better!"

He turned on a radio he had been keeping under the seat, and began blasting his favorite song.

"And we can act like we come from out of this world, leave the real one far behind. And we can dance. We can dance if we want to…"

**On the Stage**

The "convoy" entered the stage, being followed by pancake head Alice, and facially-deformed Player Claire, whose head was now wrapped up in bandages to the point it was amazing she could see where she was going.

Player Carlos was still smoking pot, apparently enjoying it a lot since he didn't seem to care much about anything else.

The members of the "convoy" were gathered around a fire, listening to a beautiful Tai Chi meditation song with a mysterious tenor that bordered on heartrending. Just why they were listening to it even they didn't know, but it was exceedingly relaxing.

That is, it was relaxing until Player Carlos got hit by a Guinness truck.

"What?? Isn't that from Mrs. Doubtfire??" Player Claire asked, looking around.

**In the Audience**

"I can't believe I just got hit by a beer delivery truck," Carlos said, remarkably calm. "Oh, that song is so tranquil."

"I think it's controlling our minds," Nicholai said, receiving weird looks.

"That is quite possibly the strangest thing you've ever said," Mikhail replied. "Why do you say that?"

"Because it's making me feel cheerful, and I never feel cheerful."

"Oh God, he feels cheerful! It's the end of the world!" Mikhail shouted, him and Carlos getting up and running for the aisle.

And then a Guinness truck came out of nowhere, and ran over the real Carlos because he was out of his seat.

"Come on, that's not even possible!" Mikhail said, and Carlos got up from the floor.

"That hurt. Maybe we should just go sit down so no one gets killed."

"Fair enough… Damn, I think that song is controlling our minds. I feel like I just want to stay here and keep listening to it."

**On the Stage**

The "convoy" had gathered around Player Carlos, who was now lying on his back with his eyes closed, holding a flower and the joint.

They all began to recite in unison.

"Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone, silence the pianos and with muffled drum bring out the coffin, let the mourners come. Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead…" they paused, and Player Claire turned momentarily to the audience.

"Is 'aeroplanes' really what people called airplanes in the thirties?"

The "convoy" continued. "The stars are not wanted now; put out every one, pack up the moon and dismantle the sun, pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood; for nothing now can ever come to any good."

All of a sudden, Player Carlos sat up. "I'm not dead, hooray!"

**In the Audience**

Carlos jumped out of his seat. "Alright! I'm alive!"

The Guinness truck pulled up at the end of the row, and beeped its horn.

"Okay, I'm sitting now, see?" Carlos said, re-seating himself before he got run over again.

**On the Stage**

The "convoy", now celebrating the fact that Player Carlos was not dead, exited the stage, singing "Celebrate good times, come on!"

Player Claire hung back for a minute, and began a soliloquy. "As soon as Alice isn't paying attention, I'm going to grab an axe, or something sharp and kill her… As long as I can see through these bandages."

Then the dog and cats came running onto stage.

"Not again!" she screamed, running off, being pursued by the angry animals.

Once the stage was clear, the lights dimmed, and Player Wesker came out. He walked to the center of the stage and stopped, pausing dramatically.

"I am a very - "

Before he could continue, both Dr. Isaacs and Slater came running onto the stage, positioning themselves on either side of him.

"Dr. Isaacs is being a complete moron."

"Slater is being a nosy bastard."

"Dr. Isaacs wants to put off working on the cure because he wants to play with his super zombies some more."

"Slater won't mind his own business, and what I want to do is beneficial to the project."

"Isn't my job not to mind my own business?" Slater asked.

"Shut the hell up," Dr. Isaacs answered.

They began shoving Player Wesker back and forth between them.

"Do something!" they chanted repeatedly, until they were interrupted by a strange sound.

Cha-chink, cha-chink, rattle, scrape…

They all fell silent, looking towards the right side of the stage. Out came the real Wesker, still draped in chains.

"Isn't it a little early in the year for a Jacob Marley routine?" asked Slater.

"Christmas is still a ways away," Dr. Isaacs said.

"Get out of here, you idiots. I'm up here for a reason, and you're messing it up," he answered, and they simply nodded and left, being slightly intimidated by the weirdo.

Player Wesker stepped aside, and Wesker took center stage.

"That means you too." He knocked Player Wesker right off the stage.

Satisfied with having the stage to himself, he began.

"For a quote from the Baghavad Gita - "

"We read that!" all of the tenth graders in the audience suddenly cut in.

"Shut up! As I was saying… For a quote, 'I am become death, the destroyer of worlds'."

He lingered on that briefly.

"Do any of you have any clue what it's like being an undead superhuman?"

No reply.

"Didn't think so. One minute your alive, so full of promise. You have a plan that's going to change everything, help you to dominate the world. And then the creature you created to help you achieve that goal kills you. It's like 'Going… Going… Dead!'"

He chuckles, making pretty much everyone in the audience uncomfortable.

"Do you realize exactly how alone in the world you are when you're a traitorous bastard that becomes a monster? A monster with very little humanity? I only have one friend."

Birkin stands up in the audience and cheers, clapping enthusiastically.

"Yeah, hi. Aside from him, I really don't have anybody. Technically, I don't even exist anymore. Do I get mail? No. No one writes a letter to a dead person."

He begins pacing along the edge of the stage.

"If you don't believe me, try becoming undead yourself. Read about it from the 'dead' files of your zombified mom."

Someone in the audience screams "MOM!"

"The only thing that really makes me feel… anything… is stuff that would make a psychiatrist cry. When you lack humanity, this is the kind of stuff that brings you happiness: Tornado poems about dying in a heap, Hank Hill for Webster's Dictionary, The American Revolution picture sourcebook – overly glorified, under gorrified."

Everyone in the audience exchange odd looks.

"I feel virtually nothing. I'm void of emotion. Holidays seem to make people happy – they don't do that for me. You think I look like I'm decked out for Christmas? I've got news for you, the bells of Christmas will kill you if they fall."

Once again, the members of the audience seem terribly confused.

"Think I'm normal? Not at all. I'm a freak," he says just a little too happily. "Want an example?"

He somehow unhinges his jaw, allowing his mouth to open quite a bit wider than a normal human, and to make things worse, he lets out an unholy screech like some creature from hell, making most of the audience puke.

Re-hinging his jaw, he finishes. "Welcome to my candy-coated hell."

The audience is silent for a long time, probably due to a combination of uncertainty and disgust. Then they all begin to cry.

"That was a great speech," Player Wesker said, from his spot standing next to the stage. "Except for when you quoted Candy Mountain Massacre at the end… But still great."

He began clapping, and soon the entire audience was clapping. And crying.

"Ah, time to go run someone over with a Guinness truck just for fun," he said happily, walking off the stage.

INTERMISSION.

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_Well, that was just insane. This is what happens when I try to write when I've got the flu (finally came to the conclusion that that's why I've been sick). I know the whole thing was… extremely random… but I hope that's okay. I've got a depressing problem on my mind right now and it's blocking out everything else._

_Player Claire getting attacked by animals… Very random. Specifically, they're my pets – Karley was my last dog (she passed away around April) and I wanted to immortalize her somehow. Moody is my beloved 10-year-old cat, and we're inseparable – she actually imitates me, like she's a human herself, and she knows how to open doors and do tricks. Toppy and Moody's brother Cinders are both my mom's cats – they're also best friends, apparently. And they pick on poor Moody all the time._

_That Guinness truck thing… Don't ask. It popped into my head, and I got a theme going. And Wesker's speech… ugh, that was so weird and cheesy… Him quoting the "Baghavad Gita" did seem Wesker-ish, though. And I did have to read that in 10th grade…_

_The part where he unhinged his jaw was an idea I was playing around with for another story, and I wanted to see how it worked out. Yuck. And why I had him quote "Candy Mountain Massacre", I don't know – I've been wanting to hop on Adult Swim's website and play that, but I haven't had time yet._

_Okay, well, I just watched the sunrise… Which means I should have been asleep hours ago. I'm going to run, but I'll be back soon. Leave me a review and let me know what you think!_


	23. Chapter 23

_Ugh… I feel like crawling under a rock… On top of being sick for two weeks, I've been depressed since the beginning of the month, and it just seems to get worse every week…I wasn't even looking forward to Halloween, and that was always my second favorite holiday… I feel like I'm beginning to lose it. The only thing that's really cheered me up at all is when I found out Zimeckis (love his movies) made "Beowulf" into a movie (I love Beowulf – and I really hope that they get Grendel just right; Grendel is the coolest humanoid-wolf-demon ever – I was almost him for Halloween back in 12th grade) and SAW IV came out. Other than that, blah… Life really sucks sometimes._

_Hm… I have no clue what I'm doing with this chapter… I didn't actually start it until almost 4:30am last Saturday (I was at war with my crappy computer again), but I just didn't feel motivated at all, so after I finished the chapter of "Resident Pancake Head" I was working on, I crawled into bed. I was going to jot as much down as I could before I had to leave my house for the day, but I just couldn't. I didn't even want to think about it. And I always try to update right before holidays, so that ticked me off. Ah, but I was pleasantly surprised when I got to the library (when I wasn't chatting with friends, anyway) to find that this story had hit the **109** review mark! That really made me feel pretty good – I mean, I'm still down, but it did make me feel less down. Thanks to everyone who made me getting 109 reviews possible! You're all the best!_

_Hm… The only things I've thought of for this chapter are some references to Adult Swim's game "Five Minutes to Kill Yourself" (I just got my best friend addicted to that), some very odd theme of love (you'll see what I mean – it's very strange, but sort of funny), and the use of some songs that will be weird in this, like Simon and Garfunkel's "I am a Rock" (I know, funny title, but it's actually a really sad song). Well, hope you enjoy it and, hope that everyone had a happy Halloween!_

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Chapter Twenty-Three

ACT VI

**On the Stage**

The lights dimmed, casting the stage in a surreal gloom, as Player Wesker, slightly battered from being pushed off the stage earlier, adjusted his blazer and walked to the center stage.

The men in black wander around aimlessly behind him, seeming lost.

He begins. "Now the ragged vagrants creep into crooked holes to sleep…"

They all sit down in random spots, pretending to fall asleep.

"Now North and South and East and West, those I love lie down to rest…"

In the Audience 

Wesker, who's still hanging around in the wings of the auditorium, avoiding the prison guard who hasn't returned yet, suddenly interrupts.

"I just got through saying that I'm void of emotion – and that includes love!"

On the Stage 

Player Wesker shrugged, figuring it would be best to ignore that. Just as he went to continue, a cellphone rang somewhere behind him, and everyone looked to see one of the men in black answering a call.

"Hey, dude. What's up? Yeah. Yeah. OH DAMN! You can't be serious! No, you really can't be serious! THEY MADE A MOVIE OF _SWEENY TODD_?!? That's awesome! I have to go get advance tickets!!"

The guy gets up, pocketing the phone and happily skipping off stage. "I can hardly blame them. These are probably the worst pies in London…"

**In the Audience**

"What is _Sweeny Todd_?" Steve asked with a yawn, having just barely stayed awake at all during this play.

A really preppy guy behind him leaned forward. "It's a musical about two people that kill others and put them in meat pies. It had Angela Lansbury in it."

"You mean the woman who played that tea pot in _Beauty and the Beast_?"

"Uh… Sure. Although, she's better known for her starring role on the TV show _Murder, She Wrote_. She was quite amusing, if not disturbing, in that musical."

"Right… It sounds boring."

"Boring?" the prep said incredulously. "Do you have any respect for the art of theatre?"

"Not really."

"You're dead!"

"Why??" Steve asked, jumping out of his seat.

"Come here, I'm putting you in a meat pie!"

**On the Stage**

Confident the interruptions had passed, Player Wesker finally resumed, waving a hand to indicate the "sleeping" men in black.

"No one has seen you. None can say 'Of late, here – you can see the marks – they lay in wait'. But in my thought tonight you seem forms which I saw once in a dream…"

He faces them.

"Though the public you poison are pretty well dumb…" He pauses, apparently looking at them and considering something. He turns back to the audience, signifying himself. "They shall turn on their betrayer when the time is come."

He takes one last look at the men. "See in my eyes the look you look to see; I may be false but O be true to me."

As he turns to exit the stage, someone in the audience replies. "It's a little hard to look in your eyes when you wear sunglasses 24-7!"

**In the Audience**

Chris laughed, enjoying heckling the kid playing Wesker. What he wasn't expecting, was that the real Wesker didn't appreciate the joke.

"Don't interrupt my monologues, Redfield!" he shouted, and looked for something to throw.

"Go to hell!" Chris turned around and shouted back, and then got nailed in the face with a computer monitor.

**On the Stage**

The stage still crowded by the forms of the sleeping men in black, Dr. Isaacs enters, messing around on a laptop while two lab assistants stand in the background, conversing. He suddenly looks up, and addresses the audience.

"As I walked out one evening, walking down Bristol Street, the crowds upon the pavement were fields of harvest wheat."

Then he motions to the lab assistants. "And down by the brimming river I hear a lover sing under an arch of the railway…"

One of them recites to the other, "…Love has no ending. I'll love you, dear, I'll love you till China and Africa meet and the river jumps over the mountain and the salmon sing in the street. I'll love you till the ocean is folded and hung up to dry - "

They get cut off as Slater makes a rather loud entrance, screaming for no apparent reason. He walks up to Dr. Isaacs and looks at the laptop. "What are you doing?"

"Playing _Five Minutes to Kill Yourself_," he replies, "Oh, oh, check this out. I'm eating cake out of a urinal."

"Is that a clown in the bathroom?"

The lab assistant tries to resume his oration. "And the seven stars go - "

Wesker interrupts again from his hiding spot somewhere in the audience. "What is with all the love? Who wants to hear about that?!"

The two lab assistants give up and exit the stage, while Slater laughs about the guy in the game shoving his face in a paper shredder.

"Did you want something?" Isaacs asks impatiently.

"Uh… Yeah… What was it? Ah, I remember – I want you to put those damn super zombies down. They keep trying to eat me."

The doctor rolls his eyes. "… Something… I forgot that part of the line… May qualify the joy and that which we create, we also may destroy."

They exit the stage, and the men in black awaken, crowding around.

"I'm glad that we live underground, because if we didn't we'd probably have been picked off by all the zombies milling around up there," one of them says, and another raises his hand.

"I have to go up there and shovel bodies into the pit in the ground." As he goes to leave, one of them pipes up.

"'O where are you going?' said reader to rider, 'That valley is fatal where furnaces burn. Yonder's the midden whose odors will madden, that gap is the grave where the tall return'."

The guy shrugs and leaves, while another pulls back his sleeve, scratching at a spot on his arm.

One of them looks at it. "'O what was that bird,' said horror to hearer, 'Did you see that shape in the twisted trees? Behind you swiftly the figure comes softly, the spot on you skin is a shocking disease?'"

"Great. That means I have to die, doesn't it?"

All of the other men in black pull out guns and start chasing him around, until they've all exited the stage.

**In the Audience**

"All this poetry is really starting to freak me out," Brad said to himself, not thinking anyone could hear him.

The preppy guy who was still chasing Steve around came up behind him. "MEAT PIES!"

Brad shrieked and ran off into the sea of people.

"I am not a hurdle!" several people shouted after him.

**On the Stage**

The men in black re-enter the stage, and corner the infected guy. "You know, in hindsight, it would have been wise of me to live my life in a healthier manner…"

Dr. Isaacs suddenly slides across the stage, and begins singing. "First they'll smoke raisins, then they'll shoot-up apricots! I know you can't resist me, know you wanna smoke some fruit! Check out my sweet-ass matching pantsuit!"

"Wrong song," the infected guy says.

"Kids think drugs are cool, that is why I rule!"

"Dude! Wrong song!"

"Oh. Right…"

Suddenly snappy music begins to play, and he starts singing a new song, backed up by the men in black.

"Oh grains are the foundation, so please take my advice, have five to eleven servings of bread, cereal or rice!" He started throwing rice at the guy. "Three to five of vegetables and four of fruits is best, their antioxidants and fiber help you to digest."

He twirled the guy around, and then a cow came out onto the stage.

"Three servings of yogurt, milk and cheeeeese will help your bones and subsidize the cattle industries!"

The men in black began throwing raw meat at the cow, until it ran away.

"A body needs to grow and growing takes proteins, that's why meat can be a tasty treat, like fish or human beings."

Then a zombie came onto the stage and began chewing on one of the backup singers.

"When you eat your sweets, make sure you try to limit your servings, or you'll DDDDDIIIIIIIEEEEE! … Everybody!"

"My body is a pyramid that's made of healthy foods. So do what we say, yeah! Eat right everyday, food! IIIIIIII loooooove yoooooou!"

"Uh…" the infected guy said, "I wasn't talking about eating healthy. I meant I shouldn't have taken up smoking."

The group didn't reply, just began chasing him around again until they exited the stage once more, hopefully not to return right away.

At this point, everyone in the audience was so scared they had nearly gone into comas. Fortunately for them, only Player Wesker and the two lab assistants from earlier entered the stage this time. The lab assistants pointed to him and recited in unison.

"Underneath the abject willow, lover, sulk no more; act from thought should quickly follow: what is thinking for? Your unique and moping station proves you cold; stand up and fold your map of desolation. Bells that toll across the meadows from the somber spire, toll for those unloving shadows love does not require."

"I am alone in this world. And I hate love," he answered, more to himself than anyone else, as they exited.

Unfortunately for the audience, he was about to sing.

"I've built walls, a fortress deep and mighty that none may penetrate. I have no need for friendship. Friendship causes pain. It's laughter and it's loving I disdain."

"I have a friend!" Wesker shouted from somewhere in the audience.

"I am a rock, I am an island. Don't talk of love. Well, I've heard the word before. It's sleeping in my memory. I won't disturb the slumber of feelings that have died. If I'd never loved, I never would have cried. I am a rock, I am an island."

"I never loved to begin with! I have the personality of a serial killer, for crying out loud!"

"I have my books and my poetry to protect me - "

"That totally does not sound like me!"

Wesker comes onto the stage in a huff, and Player Wesker quickly exits before he gets thrown off the five foot drop again.

"Fake Me over here is starting to piss me off, and what is all this crap about love?!"

"I thought the 'fake' you was pretty accurate," a familiar voice said, and Wesker took on an caustic tone.

"Who are you to say what's real?! Think about it – is blue real? Is love really real?"

"The soldier loves his rifle, the scholar loves his books, the farmer loves his horses, the film star loves her looks. There's love the whole world over, wherever you may be; some lose their rest for gay Mae West, but you're my cup of tea," Dr. Marcus replied, coming onto the stage.

"Wait… What??" Wesker said, more concerned about what he'd just said, rather than the fact that he was there.

"And I find nothing sensible to do, but, shivering, look towards the north and you."

"Hold on, hold on. What the hell are you getting at?"

The audience once again had no clue what was going on, since there seemed to be a lot of problems with uncoordinated dialogue on that stage.

"What, you don't know? I'm the Guru of love."

Nearly everyone in the auditorium now wanted to shoot themselves at the thought someone so creepy could be an expert on love.

"Birkin," Marcus called, "Sing that song I wrote down for you."

Birkin stood up, and began singing in a terrible voice. "On a Monday I am waiting. Tuesday I am fading and by Wednesday I can't sleep. Then the phone rings I hear you and the darkness is a clear view 'cause you've come to rescue me - "

"Will, shut up!" Wesker shouted.

"Okay," Birkin said, re-seating himself.

"Takin' a dive 'cause you can't halt the slide, floating downstream. So let her go don't start spoiling the show. It's a bad dream. And you, and your sweet desire, you took me higher and higher - " Marcus was singing and, sadly for the audience who were already terrified, dancing.

"What the hell are you talking about?? So far all you've done is recite poetry and sing and it's really getting on my nerves!"

He didn't miss a beat with his singing. "I don't want another pretty face. I don't want just anyone to hold. I don't want my love to go to waste. I want you and your beautiful soul."

Wesker stared at him, not quite sure how to react. "You are a very strange man – although, I already knew that – and I'm leaving now."

"I swear that I will find a way to make you love," Marcus said matter-of-factly.

"Oh? Yeah, well, I have a quote for you, weirdo: 'Mother, make my bed soon, for I'm sick at the heart, and fain wald lie down'… That didn't quite sound how I wanted it to…"

"It sounded like gibberish!" Chris shouted from the audience.

"That's from _Lord Randall_! It's Old English, you dolt!" Wesker shouted back.

"We read that!" the twelfth graders shouted in unison merrily.

"Stop reading what I read, you freaks!"

--------

_Wow, that love theme was just scary… I had my reasons for doing that theme, but that was seriously weird. And so you know, the poetry was all by W.H. Auden (most of it is from the 30's, so some references in the poetry might be confusing), the two songs Dr. Isaacs sings were from a show that was on MTV about five years ago called "Clone High" (that show was hilarious – especially Marilyn Manson singing that nutrition song), and the whole line with "Is love really real?" was from South Park. And "Lord Randall" is a medieval ballad about some guy (supposedly) being poisoned by his wife – seemed appropriate. The "Sweeny Todd" reference was sort of odd, but I caught an ad for the movie during the week, and I couldn't help myself – I have to see that movie._

_Well, I worked in yet another character, and I still have a handful to go, including Billy, but I don't know where to put him yet…Marcus' role in this chapter was crazy. For some reason, I got the idea of him singing love songs in my head, and I couldn't get it to go away…'I'm eating cake out of a urinal', ah, I love that. I need to make some time to play that game really soon, but first things first. I realize this chapter was mostly about Wesker, but I couldn't come up with anything for anyone else yet, so I just focused on him. The next chapter will probably be more normal._

_Well, I've got to get some sleep, so that's it for this installment. I'll update sometime soon. In the meantime, leave me a review and let me know what you think! _


	24. Chapter 24

_Well, what can I say? I'm on a roll with updating this. I have been taking a break here and there to update other things (although I've sort of been slacking off because my mind's preoccupied), but I keep coming back to it, because it's helping me sort out all the mental clutter that's built up in my head the last month and a half. I'm actually feeling slightly better than I was, although it comes and goes. I guess I'll feel this way until the issue at hand is resolved… Which could take a long time… The really sad (and funny) thing is that I've been playing Resident Evil 4 so much (to clear my mind) that Leon has reached the status of billionaire. Now I'm picturing Leon and Bill Gates hanging out…_

_I was going to update this last week, but I got sick again. It figures, I started feeling better and then I got a fever… And the fever gave me one of those weird "only when you're sick" dreams – in this dream, I was still in high school, and I'd missed the semesters switching, and since I couldn't find my class, I asked the first person I bumped into in the hall – this complete jerk I went to school with that thought he was above everyone else. He was going to lead me to the office, but somehow he got detoured, and then Martin Prince from "The Simpsons" took me hostage at gunpoint while the jerk I had been following made me buy him a bag of popcorn from the vending machine, and then complained that I got the wrong one. And as if that wasn't bad enough, my fever was gone the next day, but I had ANOTHER dream, where Alton Brown and Paula Deen were making Thanksgiving dinner together (I watch the Food Network too much) and at some point, he turned to her and said 'You're accent is really starting to piss me off', which is when I woke up. Actually, I always thought her accent was rather pleasant…_

_Ah well, I have very little idea at the moment what this chapter will be about – I've been a little too distracted with thinking, trying to occupy myself while the cable is shut off (it won't be back on till Tuesday) and wondering why the weather's been so crazy… First we get snow (a month early), now we have thunderstorms again (three months after they're supposed to have stopped until late spring). Watching the first snow of the season last week, got me in the mood for Christmas music… Which got me listening to this song from one of those claymation movies (I think it's called "The Year Without Christmas" or something…) and that gave me some very retarded inspiration – which includes a scene where they keep calling Claire "Mister" during a song…_

---------

Chapter Twenty-Four

ACT VII

**On the Stage**

"Where are you going?" Marcus asked, and Wesker glared at him.

"Far away from you."

"But there's still so much to be done."

"Like what?"

"For one, you haven't met any of my clients."

"What makes you think I would want to?"

At this point, the audience was beginning to wonder whether the show was ever going to finish or not, with all of the lengthy… and bizarre… interruptions.

"My friends," Marcus called to someone off stage, "Would you mind coming here for a moment?"

The two Spanish cops that drove Leon to the house outside of Pueblo suddenly walked out onto the stage, noticeably mutilated from their misadventure with the villagers, the one looking like Freddy Kruger and the other looking like he'd been chewed up and spit out.

The audience had a hard time keeping their food down. And Chris, being the sort of moron he is, couldn't help but comment. "EWW!"

Wesker raised an eyebrow. "What happened to them?"

"We wrote a book! Let's read it to them!" the passenger-side cop proclaimed, and the audience vigorously began shouting "NO!" and shaking their heads.

The driver-side cop agreed, pulling out a copy of their book "It's Not Disgusting… Yet" and beginning to read, while the tech people showed the photos from the book on a TV at the base of the stage.

Several ridiculously long hours later…

"And that experience taught us that 'stop' does not mean 'please continue'," the driver finished reading.

The audience had spent the last few hours puking, crying, smashing their heads into the nearest hard surface and trying desperately to forget what they were just subjected to hearing.

"We hope you enjoyed our book, because everyone gets a copy!" the passenger said, and everybody in the audience began screaming bloody murder.

Wesker, who had seen a lot of things and couldn't really care any less about the terrifyingly horrible things that go on the world, yawned, having not gotten anything out of their disturbing story. "Is this going anywhere?"

"I am not completely certain myself," Marcus said, looking at the two weird. "But these two were some of my clients."

"And what exactly did you help them with?"

"I can't remember… But it ended with them writing the book."

"Wow, I'm so impressed," Wesker murmured.

"Get off the stage! You're giving everyone crippling psychological damage!" Chris shouted from the audience.

"Christopher, stop interrupting!" called Dr. Marcus, and Chris shuddered.

"I prefer Chris, thanks."

"I'm leaving now," Wesker said, quickly exiting the stage before Marcus could get a word in edge-wise.

"Wait! There's still hope for you!" he shouted, following the belligerent superhuman, the deformed cops close behind.

**On the Stage (a few minutes later)**

Player Wesker came onto the stage, followed by a few of the men in black, as the lights were dimmed.

While the audience was relieved that the show was continuing finally, they were fearful that there might be more musical numbers. And sadly for them, that was just the case.

A catchy tune began to play, while somewhere off stage, people were throwing fake snow all over the actors. The men in black began to sing.

"He's Mr. White Christmas, he's Mr. Snow. He's Mr. Icicle, he's Mr. Ten-Below."

Then Player Wesker joined in, doing one of the most absurd dances ever.

"Friends – or 'my friend' since I only have one – call me Snowmesier. Whatever I touch turns to snow in my clutch. HA-HAA! I'm too much."

At this point the routine gets a little freaky as the men in black grab snow shovels and begin flinging fake snow in the air while they twirl around.

Player Wesker continues, now dancing around with an outdoor thermometer in his hand.

"I never want to know a day that's over forty degrees – I'd rather have it thirty, twenty, ten, five and let it fffrrreee-EEEZZZEEE!"

**Somewhere in the Audience**

"I do not sound that girly!" Wesker shouts, just to give away his location to Marcus.

"Come back, I can help you!"

"I don't want your help!" he says, running away to find another hiding place.

**On the Stage**

Wesker and his men exit, just for the "convoy", led by the bandaged-up Player Claire to enter.

The lights brighten, as the same tune from before starts, and the "convoy" begins to sing, sweeping the fake snow off the stage with brooms.

"She's Mr. Green Christmas, she's Mr. Sun. She's Mr. Heat-Blister, she's Mr. Hundred-and-One."

Player Claire takes out a lighter and begins waving it back and forth, while she sings.

"Friends – like I have any with this attitude – call me Heatmeister. Whatever I touch starts to melt in my clutch. I'm too much. I never want to know a day that's under sixty degrees - "

**In the Audience**

"Why the hell do they keep calling me 'Mister'?! Do I look like a MAN?!" Claire practically shrieked, and Rebecca sunk lower in her seat, hoping no one saw her with this maniac.

"I take it you didn't hear her say you don't have any friends because of your attitude?"

"WHAT?!?"

"Hey, it's true!" the girl with one arm from before said, running by and spraying the whole row with fake blood.

"I'm going to throw you off a cliff!" Claire shouted, giving chase, the whole situation beginning to look like a really sad excuse for a Woody the Woodpecker cartoon.

**On the Stage**

Everyone had exited the stage, thank God, just for Alice to come out and ruin the moment by beginning to sing.

"I'm a monster! You can check – look here, a bolt in my neck!"

Then someone dressed as Boba Fett from Star Wars comes running out and stops, staring at her.

"Both of us know it, I am a monster. I've only got one bolt in my neck. In my neck!"

Then Boba Fett punched her out cold and drug her off the stage, to the jubilation of the audience.

Unfortunately for everyone, though, Marcus somehow found his way back onto the stage, and was ready to serenade them some more.

"What is love? Baby, don't hurt me, don't hurt me no more - "

Someone in the audience chucked a machete, just barely missing his head as it whizzed by and got stuck in the wall with a THWACK!

Unfazed, he started another song.

"What are your plans for world domination? … I forgot the rest of that song…"

For the first time during the whole ordeal of being forced to watch this incredibly sad mess called "acting" and the several unsettling interruptions that came up, the audience thought to boo.

"BOO!"

"I've got it!" Marcus said happily, knowing the perfect song for the occasion. He waved to the tech guy up behind the audience who popped in a cassette and music began to play.

"I'm a lumberjack and I'm okay. I sleep all night and I work all day!"

He's suddenly joined by Dr. Salvador who sings with him in an unintelligible voice.

"I cut down trees, I eat my lunch, I go to the lavatory. On Wednesdays I go shopping and have buttered scones for tea!"

They do something vaguely reminiscent of the can-can, arm-in-arm with each other.

"I'm a lumberjack and I'm okay. I sleep all night, and I work all day! I chop down trees, I skip and jump, I like to press wildflowers - "

Alfred comes out onto the stage, and sings dramatically, "I put on women's clothing and hang around in bars!"

He joins in on the can-can, and they all sing in unison.

"I'm a lumberjack and I'm okay. I sleep all night and I work all day! I chop down trees, I wear high-heels - "

The audience starts throwing flowers, hoping that it will make them stop their horrible song and dance… Regrettably, they take this to mean the people want an encore, this time with the Spanish cops.

And so everyone in the audience contemplates killing themselves, while the men keep singing.

"I'm a lumberjack and I'm okay. I sleep all night and I work all day!"

INTERMISSION.

----------

_That… was incredibly disturbing… I know I didn't have an intermission in the last chapter, but that's because I left off in the middle of a scene, so I just left it. Well, the Spanish cops finally made it into the story – I still have a few people to get in here, though… Heh, the name of their book, "It's Not Disturbing… Yet" was a quote from my tenth grade World Literature teacher, who said that about "Oedipus" – which after we read that, we understood why (seriously, that is one sick story, even by ancient standards). "Stop does not mean please continue" was something my eighth grade science teacher said about the class rules – I really miss that guy, he was funny._

_The first song I borrowed, as you probably guessed, is from that claymation Christmas movie, and the second one (based on Frankenstein) is from "Whose Line is it Anyway?" (love that show). Why, oh why, did I put Boba Fett in this?? That was just very odd._

_I have to say, the last scene was fun to write – from the "What is love?" thing (I've had that stuck in my head all week for some reason) right through Monty Python's lumberjack song. I'm obsessed with Monty Python, for one, but I just seriously can't help but think of Dr. Salvador when I hear that song – and Alfred during the part about cross-dressing. Oh, I just love it!_

_Well, that's it for this chapter, and my cat keeps coming to check on me, which means it's time for me to get a few hours of sleep before I get back up. I hope everyone enjoyed it, even though it was a tad short, and everybody (in the U.S., that is) have a happy Thanksgiving! I'll be back soon, so leave me a review and let me know what you think!_


	25. Chapter 25

_Back again for more – sorry for the sudden three-week delay in updating…I haven't felt much like doing anything lately, my mind's been tied up in stuff, and now I feel sick. I've been wanting to update it since Thanksgiving, given the fact that I don't have much to do during the holidays unless my friends/family are here (which they weren't), but I opted to just skip it at the time, because I didn't feel like typing, my mind was elsewhere and my cat seemed really comfortable laying on my arm when I watched TV… I was going to do it last week, but I got distracted (thanks to "Darkplace" – I'm addicted to that show) and then just didn't feel like climbing out of bed… Now I've got Faith Hill's "Red Umbrella" stuck in my head… And, although it's a good song, it's not really cheering me up…_

_Hm… As usual, I don't have a clue what to write about… But, for some reason, I got thinking of leopard seals a few weeks ago and now I can't get them out of my head, and on some level, they scare me – seriously, no seal should have those creepy teeth and be that aggressive towards humans; they're like freaks. Thinking about them gave me an idea for the self-insert fic I work on (well, not that one specifically, the next one in the series) involving bio-weapon leopard seals…and maybe a couple other creatures. Yes, it sounds crazy, but when aren't my ideas crazy? You know, "Darkplace" just gave me an idea – that one episode had a lot of scenes involving cardboard boxes in it – boxes falling on one guy, another guy getting nailed in the face with one, a guy knocking an ape man into a pile of boxes in the middle of the woods (doesn't that just make a load of sense). Also, I think I know how the play will end – and it will be super-ultra-Christmassy. And I finally know how Billy Coen is going to come into the story – it will be weird, seriously._

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Chapter Twenty-Five

ACT VIII

**On the Stage**

Fortunately for the audience, a group of people managed to get the singing trio off finally, although that meant the freaks were now wandering around amongst them somewhere… Although, to them anyhow, that was a much better prospect.

The stage, now quiet, was once again open to whatever odd display was to come next. And in this case, it was going to be quite odd.

Player Wesker (does this guy ever leave?) came onto the stage, followed by the men in black, who lined up side by side.

"I've been hearing that employee morale is low because of the lack of work getting done and the constant instances of people bursting into song," Player Wesker said, pacing back and forth in front of them, "I think it's time for a company sing-a-long… That sounds so stupid…"

**In the Audience**

"No kidding it sounds stupid," Wesker said to himself, dragging a really big burlap sack behind him, while something struggled inside. "This should take care of that psycho Marcus if he comes around me again."

He untied the sack, and was met by the sound of clawed-flippers thudding against the hard, carpet-covered floor as a large grey and brown spotted seal hobbled out. It looked at him curiously with large, black eyes that now had bright red pupils.

The once-leopard-seal-now-monster was something he had found living a little ways from the school in some chick's hot tub in a private community and he had "borrowed" for his own use – exactly what you get if you leave a monster where he can find it.

"Aqualung," he addressed the creature named after a creepy song by Jethro Tull, "You're going to be my bodyguard."

It cocked its head, looked him over for a minute, and then opened its jaws as wide as they would go and clamped its teeth around his foot.

"Let go, you bastard! You're supposed to be protecting me, not chewing my feet off!"

**On the Stage**

Player Wesker was leading the men in black in song (or, in the case of this song, shouting), to some really loud rock music.

"Today, we are giving birth to our own future!"

Then the men in black began. "We will learn, we will love, we will work to change each other. We will spread, we will cover the earth like air and water."

The audience was sort of going deaf at this point.

"Tomorrow is blank, we'll just fill it in with our own answers! If we're stopped, we'll just start again! That is the new offer!"

And then the members of The Desaparecidos walked into the auditorium. "Do you have expressed and written consent to use that song in a public setting?!"

The actors decided to answer in song. "Don't take it personal. It's just business."

"Don't reply with a line of our song!"

Then a group of Hall Monitors came to escort the irritated band out – not those people who walk the halls and tell you to get to class, but rather the creepy black fly-looking things that plagued the halls of the labs below Spencer Mansion.

**In the Audience**

"For what reason exactly are they using songs by an underrated, anti-capitalism, sociopolitical, environmentalist band?" Birkin asked Martha Stewart, since Annette still hadn't come back from beating up the guy from before.

Martha raised an eyebrow at him.

"I have absolutely no idea what you just said. Can you rephrase that, a lot?"

**On the Stage**

"I'm feeling extremely unfulfilled with my career," one of the men in black said.

Another guy decided to add to the statement with song. "Well, lately my days aren't much better. I can't concentrate when I'm at work. I just think and think until my head hurts of the payment plans I'm making."

Player Wesker just stared at them and sang in response.

"If you're feeling trapped or too attached, remember we wanted that… So if you're feeling sad, kind of detached, remember we wanted that. Just remember we wanted it."

"What a terrible excuse for a corporation to make people so unhappy," Dr. Isaacs said, coming out onto the stage as the men in black exited.

Player Wesker took on a defensive tone, starting another song. "They say it's murder on your folk career to make a rock record with The Disappeared."

"And that was a poor excuse for a metaphor. How can you compare a record by The Disappeared with a job at Umbrella?"

Player Wesker crossed his arms and turned away, while the doctor began to sing.

"There are no art forms now, just capitalism. So send the National Guard to the Mall of America. And they can dress dead bodies up in tight designer jeans. Diesel! Prada!!! It looks good, it looks good. Yeah it does. I'm gonna lie down with the common sound. I'm gonna bury my blues so it's never found. I'm gonna learn to pay attention to the television sets. And if my sadness needs a catalyst, I'll just uncover my eyes, so much stimulus."

**In the Audience**

Wesker kicked Aqualung in the face, getting it to let go of his foot.

"Damn, those teeth hurt."

Suddenly a bunch of women began singing somewhere. "Harty Chiropractic, to feel the best you could! Harty Chiropractic can make you start to feel this good!"

He just looked around. "I don't need a chiropractor!"

Then a guy came up to him. "Hi, I'm Dr. Harty. I heard you need some help?"

"No, I don't. Aqualung, kill this guy."

Aqualung looked at Dr. Harty who, for some reason, smiled pleasantly at the monster. And then he lunged at Wesker again.

Wesker stepped out of the way. "Ha! You missed!"

But the deformed seal wasn't about to give up yet. It came after him, and being as it weighed enough to knock him down and chew his head off, he decided to find someplace to get away from it.

**On the Stage**

Player Wesker and Dr. Isaacs exited the stage just in time for the real Wesker to enter.

"I really hate this school," he announced to the audience, not expecting any response, least of which the one he was about to get.

The kids who had been in his class stood up, and led the rest of the audience in song. "We're so sorry, Uncle Albert."

"If you sing anymore of that song, you're all dead!"

Before anyone could react, a guy in a tan trench coat with five o'clock shadow came up to him. "Hey, I want my sunglasses back."

"Who the hell are you?"

"My name's P. Floyd, and I want my sunglasses back. I'm serious."

"These sunglasses are mine. They've never been anyone else's."

"How would you know?"

"I've been around for a while. How long have you been around?"

"Since before WWII."

"Wait a minute… P. Floyd. That sounds like a reference to Pink Floyd – that's a little ironic for someone born that long before the 70's."

Floyd leaned close to him. "I have a lot of people working for me, you know."

"Well, so do I."

His eyes narrowed. "I'm going to get you."

Then he left (thank God), while numerous people in the audience burst into song. "I don't know why Floyd's a frightening guy. Perhaps he'll die – standing on a submarine!"

Wesker just blinked several times, not completely sure what the hell was going on right now. And to his dismay, Marcus came back onto the stage.

"God damn it! How the hell do you keep finding me?!"

Marcus, apparently familiar with The Simpsons, answered, "I've traveled the world and the seven seas. I am watching you through a camera!"

"Why don't you just leave me alone?"

"Because I haven't helped you yet."

"I do not need help! Why is that so hard to understand?!"

"I sing, I dance. Give me a chance to do my turn for you. With backflips, cartwheelings,

somersault feelings. What's there left to do? Laughter is free, but it's so hard to be a jester all the time. No one's believing I'm the same when I'm bleeding and I hurt all the time deep inside."

"Uh... You just compared yourself to a clown why?"

"I answer questions never maybe, and I'm not kind if you betray me."

"Hold up, are you still hung up on that 'being killed' thing?"

Marcus just stared at him.

"Okay, that was sort of obvious. But why do you keep harrassing me? Is this some stupid kind of payback?"

"What did I just say in the song? I don't answer questions."

"What the hell are you talking about? You answer questions all the time."

"See? You do need help."

"What? How did we go from that to that?? I don't understand you at all... And I don't need help; that's the last time I'm saying it!"

"If you don't get help, you'll never learn to love."

"I don't need to love. In fact, I know a song to illustrate that – the future's so bright, I gotta wear shades."

"This is for all the lonely people, thinking that life has passed them by. Don't give up until you drink from the silver cup and never take you down or never give you up. You never know until you try."

"What is this? A battle of song quotes?" Wesker was getting annoyed, really, reallly fast. "Well, I have a quote. 'The word is LOVE. The Word is LOSS. The words are DAMAGED GOODS. That is what I am'. Huh, that sounded scary coming from me."

Before the disturbing scene could get any weirder (as if it won't), a huge group of people came up to the edge of the stage.

"We're the security team from the community you illegally entered and stole that animal from," said a bunch of guys in black uniforms.

"We're the United States Army, and we've come for Floyd's sunglasses," said a group of guys in camouflage.

"We're members of PETA, and you're in trouble for being cruel to that poor Leopard seal," said another bunch of people.

"We're Greenpeace and you're going to be arrested for turning a wild animal into an experiment!" a group of people in tye-dye shirts said.

"Uh... Isn't that basically the same thing PETA is here for?"

"Are you kidding us?"

He shrugged, and the last group of people stepped forward.

"We're from the ASPCA and you're under arrest for cruelty to an animal."

"That's just a combination of the reasons why PETA and Greenpeace are here. Why do three different groups have to show up all to do the same thing? Couldn't just one of you have come?"

"You're terrible!" one of the Greenpeace people shouted, "Even Willard can't stand you, and he makes rats kill people!"

"It's true," Willard said, walking up to him, being followed by a sea of rats. "Tear him up."

And the rats attacked him.

As if that wasn't bad enough, the Leopard seal found it's way onto the stage and began attacking him as well.

And to top it off, a large amount of cardboard boxes fell on him.

The huge group of people just watched for a second before losing interest and turning their attention to Marcus.

"Who are you?" one of the security guards asked to pass time while the animals chewed on Wesker.

"I'm the guy who's going to teach him to feel love."

Everyone in the group exchanged odd looks. One of them, an ASPCA officer, decided to address the audience.

"Don't worry, everyone! This mess will all be over soon."

The audience, thrilled at the possibilty that they might be able to leave soon, began cheering wildly.

INTERMISSION.

--------

_Needless to say, that was weird. I guess that's what happens when I have no ideas and get The Desaparecidos stuck in my head. Let's see, the songs in this chapter were "Manana", "Survival of the fittest/It's a jungle out there", "Man and Wife, the former (Financial Planning)" and "Mall of America" by the Desaparecidos (I love that band, they really make some good points in their music), the Harty Chiropractic song (I really hope no one reading this knows where that is), "Uncle Albert" by the Beatles, my song about Floyd to the tune of "The old woman who swallowed a fly", "Painted Smile" by The Moody Blues, "Wake up call" by the Maroon 5, "Lonely People" by America, and "Man and Wife, the latter (Damaged Goods)" by the Desaparecidos. Jeez, that was a lot to absorb... _

_Aqualung, heh, don't ask. It was the only thing I could think of for 'the name of a sea creature/monster'. And the way I wrote about it, it sounds like Wesker stole it from my house – although I guess that would be a good use for our hot tub when it's empty._

_P. Floyd is from "Medal of Honor: Rising Sun" (yes, I like some war games. My dad was a Seargent sixth class in the army, so it makes sense, even though I'm very anti-war) – and I swear, he has to be named after Pink Floyd. There was always something about that guy that weirded me out... Besides the sunglasses... which is why I wrote that song about him. _

_Yay, Willard! I love that movie so much. Willard is my dysfunctional hero - which is the reason why my e-mail is "Willardfreak", haha!_

_Ah, and if the reference to "Hall Monitors" wasn't familiar, in the original and Director's cut of RE, there were these black things in the labs below Spencer Mansion that looked like a fly and a human put together – and could swing from the ceiling like monkeys. I had no idea what they were until I found a reference to them in a guide to the first game – for that matter, that's the only reference I ever found to them. They should have left them in the remakes of that game, 'cause they are scary as all hell._

_I realize this chapter didn't go much of anywhere, but that's because I was very uninspired. The next chapter will be a lot better. _

_Well, I'd better get my three hours of sleep before I have to go out for the day and then prepare for the blizzard we're going to get hit by tonight (I like snow, so I don't mind). Leave me a review and let me know what you think!_


	26. Chapter 26

_Time for that Christmassy chapter I promised! Honestly, it really doesn't feel very much like Christmastime to me. I guess because I've been feeling down for a while. With any luck, the holiday will cheer me up some, but I've been wracking my brain trying to come up with a solution to a problem, so I don't know how well that'll work. Hopefully my cousin will come to pay me a visit like last year, which was a blast – we watched the Scripps National Spelling Bee and were dying of laughter because of how little those kids know about the world and this one girl who did the weirdest thing every time she said a letter. In my house, we're not having much of a Christmas this year since the car got wrecked by a deer, but it doesn't matter to me one way or another – the only thing I want can't be bought and isn't found in stores._

_Anyway, happy holidays, my friends. Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Feliz Navidad, Joyeux Noel, and all that stuff – whoever you are, and whatever you celebrate, have a great time!_

_Huh, where do I begin this chapter? I haven't really thought too much about it with my thought reserves being used up on something else and the fact that I've been playing Crusaders of Might and Magic all week. I'm not even sure how I got playing that old game – I guess I decided to finally sit down and play it all the way through (I only ever got to the Dwarves castle before I got annoyed and quit). I think I'm getting close to the end of it actually… And I finally found something about it that I really like (the whole game is okay, but sort of irritating), the Dashers. They really creep me out, but they're neat at the same time for something that looks like a bird, a fox, a human and a zebra got it on… Anywho, I should get going on this chapter so I have a little time to play that before I hit the hay. I usually don't do any gaming on Fridays (that's my typing-only night), but I'll make an exception this time. Actually, I do have one idea for this… And it's based on a really creepy dream I had the other night (I have a sinus infection and have been running fevers on and off, so it's very weird)._

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Chapter Twenty-Six

ACT IX

**On the Stage**

The teen dressed as a theater usher came onto the stage, walking slowly to the edge and clearing his throat. "I have an announcement to make…"

"We can't hear you!" shouted Chris, ever entertained by his heckling of everyone who graced the stage.

The usher crossed his arms. "FINE! IS THIS BETTER?!"

Silence.

"GOOD! I HAVE A SPEECH! THIS NEXT ACT IS BEING RE-WRITTEN TO ACCOMMODATE THE ARRIVAL OF CHRISTMAS, SO ENJOY THE END OF THE SHOW!"

**In the Audience**

Barry, who had wandered around this whole time while eating a BLT, had somehow found his way into a balcony where two Muppets he vaguely recognized of old men sat.

"That was a speech?"

"It was dumb!"

"It was obvious!"

"It was pointless!"

"It was… short."

"I loved it!" they laughed in unison, while he just looked at them weird.

"Wait a minute… The play started back in October… We've been here for two months??" Barry realized, in complete shock… then shrugged and continued eating.

**On the Stage**

The "convoy", who had been missing from the play for a while, entered the stage as the usher left, and gathered around a fake fire pit, where they appeared to be roasting marshmallows. Player Claire stood to speak.

"Because it's a holiday… But more so because I'm in a good mood… I'll entertain you with a poem."

"How is a poem entertaining?" Player Carlos asked.

"Shut up." She glared at him for a minute, and then began. "Go and catch a falling star - "

"Not literally, Alice!" Player Carlos shouted at the retarded pancake head.

"Maybe I should move on to another part… If thou be'st born to strange sights, things impossible to see, ride ten thousand days and nights, till age snow white hairs on thee…"

"You can do that one, Alice!"

"Thou, when thou return'st, wilt tell me all strange wonders that befell thee."

"But don't come back!" Player Carlos added, but Alice was already off on her journey.

"I hope she gets killed," Player Claire murmured.

**In the Audience**

Wesker, having recovered from his odd assortment of injuries and managed to escape from the horde of people after him (for now, anyway), was already pretty pissed, and did not need any more annoyances. Unfortunately, fate does not favor unkind people.

Birkin came up to him, being followed by a few weird looking orange creatures. They walked upright, had a human body-type, a peculiarly-shaped head with something that resembled a beak and a snout put together and two large spikes sticking off the back, and tattoo-like stripes, one with red, one with green and one with teal.

"These fellows were looking for you, Albert."

"Err… What exactly are they?" he asked, and the three things gave him a dirty look.

"I believe they called themselves Dasher Rangers… And they were sent here by the Forest Spirit because of something to do with harming a wild animal?"

"How does everybody know about that?" Wesker asked himself, just before the Dashers started stabbing him with swords that glowed red. He just stood there and sighed. "You know, I can't die. So there's really no point to this."

They ignored him.

"Will, could you get them to quit it?"

"How?"

"I don't know. Compliment them, or something."

"What would that do?"

Suddenly Wesker put on a hat, grabbed a cane, and began dancing while the Dashers kept stabbing him. "I'm glad you asked about that thing, 'cause what I'd like to do is sing a song about getting people to do stuff for you, by using compliments even if they ain't true! 'Cause you look like you lost some weight, now lick my hands and paint that crate!"

"Okay."

"I gotcha!"

"Oh."

"Now you try!"

William joined in. "You look great in that shirt, now help me hem my brand new skirt! You have very nice cheek bones, now help me co-sign this bank loan!"

The Dashers, annoyed by their horrible singing, started stabbing more viciously.

"Uh, Will, now would be a good time."

William thought for a moment, and then came up with the perfect compliment. "Dashers," he said, "I must say you're stripes are delightful – they remind me of a dream I had where Paul Hogan from _Crocodile Dundee_ was walking around completely nude, draped in pink and black vines."

Wesker really didn't need to know about that. The Dashers, on the other hand, didn't seem to care.

"Did you forget?" one of them spoke up, "We speak English. We heard everything you just said, so your compliments are no good to us."

Wesker ran a hand down his face. "Damn."

What else could make this crappy situation worse?

**On the Stage**

Player Wesker and the men in black came onto the stage and sprightly music began to play.

"Come on and dress me, dress me, dress me in my finest array because in case you haven't heard today is Do-Mi-Do Day. Dress me in my silver garters, dress me in my diamond studs, 'cause I'm going Do-Mi-Do-ing in my Do-Mi-Do duds."

The men in black began dressing him in various colorful things that didn't match, until he was beginning to look like a marching band leader, while he continued running off a list of clothing items, most of which were worn only by women.

The real Wesker was at a loss for words. Surely it couldn't get any worse than this.

Player Wesker was getting towards the finale of the song. "Do-Mi-Do Day, Do-Mi-Do Day… Come on and dress me in the blossoms of a million pink trees!"

**In the Audience**

"Oh, come on!!!" Wesker shouted, having never said anything remotely like that in his life… As far as he remembered.

Needless to say, elsewhere in the audience, Chris was laughing hysterically on the floor, completely ignoring the people kicking him the head and demanding he shut up.

**On the Stage**

"'Cause I'm gooooing Do-Mi-Dooooo-ing," Player Wesker sang.

"In his DoooOOOooo-Mi-Do Duuuuuuds!" the men in black finished.

As Wesker neatened his odd assembly of clothing, they began singing another, rather sad song, the mood completely changing as if they were giving him a warning. "But adventure calls with unknown voices pulling you away. Be careful or you may regret the choice you make someday. When love is gone, when love is gone, the sweetest dream that we have ever known. When love is gone, when love gone. I wish you well, but I must leave you now alone."

The lights dimmed, and the men in black exited, leaving Wesker in his weird getup, while he donned a nightcap and pretended to fall asleep in a big chair that had been placed in the middle of the stage.

All of a sudden, a pair of ghostly ooooo's was heard, and two people dressed as scientists came onto the stage, painted completely white and dragging chains attached to weights.

Player Wesker, not easily disturbed like the real Wesker, stared at them. "Who the hell are you?"

"Uh… Hey. In life, I was your partner. But now I'm just some dead guy with cool chains."

"Birkin?" Player Wesker questioned, adjusting his sunglasses in disbelief.

**In the Audience**

"I BEG YOUR PARDON? I do not speak in that manner!" Birkin said, rather disgusted with the way they portrayed him. "And I'm not dead! … Not exactly…"

**On the Stage**

"And who is that freak?" Player Wesker asked, pointing to the guy beside Player Birkin.

"I told you we should have done the traditional opening," the guy whined, rolling his eyes, "In life, I was your partner, Marcus."

"Huh," Player Wesker said, "I never really considered you a partner… More like a messed-up weirdo I had to work around."

Player Marcus didn't seem amused. "You really suck, you know that?"

"What the hell do you want?"

His two ex-partners began to sing to a rather sinister, but catchy tune. "We're Birkin and Marcus, avarice and greed. We took advantage of the poor, just ignored the needy. We specialized in causing pain, spreading fear and doubt – and if you could not pay the rent, we simply threw you out!"

"Err… Exactly when did you do all that? Were you leading double-lives?"

"We're Birkin and Marcus, our hearts were painted black. We should have known our evil deeds would put us both in shackles. Captive-bound, we're double-ironed, exhausted by the weight. As freedom comes from giving love, so prison comes with hate. We're Birkin and Marcus, ooooo! We're Birkin and Marcus, OOOOO!"

"Is this going somewhere? Or are you trying to get revenge by boring me to death?"

"Doomed, Wesker! You're doomed for all time! Your future is a horror story written by your crime! Your chains are forged by what you say and do, so have you fun, when life is done a nightmare waits for you!"

"Hm… You're not really inspiring much of any emotion here. Least of which, fear."

"Why do we even bother?" Player Marcus grumbled. "He'll never change his ways. Let him continue on his path and become one of us. Then we can get revenge by never inviting him to our wild parties."

"Exactly how wild can a ghost party be?" Player Wesker asked.

"I agree. Not with you, with him," Player Birkin indicated Marcus. "Leave him to become a ghost. We'll have the last laugh."

"About what? If I have the same fate as you, wouldn't that be hypocritical?"

The two ghosts exchanged nods and made their exit, singing, into a cloud of smoke. "We're Birkin and Marcus, ooooo! We're Birkin and Marcus, ooooo! We're Birkin and Marcus, ooooo… CHANGE!"

**In the Audience**

Birkin was very annoyed by having been made into a ghost, while Wesker was more concerned by how his life sucked.

"Why does this play have to be so against me? What the hell did I do?" he muttered, and as if the Dashers repeatedly impaling him wasn't bad enough, the real Marcus found him… yet again.

"I'm sure you know what that song was about."

"I swear, if you say what I think you're going to say - "

"Learn to love, Albert. It's not hard."

Wesker really wanted to kill someone at this point, so he grabbed the teal-striped Dasher and chucked him at Marcus, who just ducked.

"Albert, you don't have to be so cruel," Marcus said, watching the Dasher that he ducked begin stabbing Wesker, who didn't notice, in the crotch spitefully. As if you couldn't tell, he was about to sing. "When people keep repeating that you'll never fall in love…"

"Shut up."

"When everything feels all over, when everybody seems unkind, I'll give you a four-leaf clover, take all the worry out of your mind."

"Don't say that next sentence!"

"Let my - "

"SHUT UP!"

"Oh, come now, give it a chance. Here, try getting along with Chris again," Marcus suggested, going into the audience and literally dragging Chris, who was vehemently protesting that he would do no such thing, back down.

"I don't want to get along with him – I hate every fiber of his being," Wesker said.

"Uh… Same thing he just said," Chris told Marcus.

Before the argument could continue, though, someone unexpected entered the stage.

**On the Stage**

A very lost and confused Billy Coen wandered onto the stage, looking out over the audience at a loss for words.

"Uh… Hi. I was supposed to be substituting for a vo-tech class here… But I sort of had a problem finding the place. Then my car broke down in Ohio. And no one would give me a ride for some reason, so I had to walk all the way here. Do you know how much it sucks to have to walk for that long? In the snow?"

The audience was completely silent.

"So… Having some sort of a play here, huh? With a Christmas theme, or something? Here – I'll contribute."

For reasons nobody anywhere understood, probably not even Billy himself, he began singing one old song.

"And there will be snow in Africa this Christmastime… Some line after that… Where nothing ever grows, no rain or rivers flow. Do they know it's Christmastime at all?"

In a very scary twist, a loud disembodied voice rang out over the stage. "Hello there, Mr. Bill."

"Mr. Bill? Do I look like a claymation clown to you?"

"Mr. Bill, are you singing about Christmas?"

Then Mr. Hands (the disembodied voice) dumped a huge pile of snow on him. And a pine tree. And some ornaments.

"Damn, that's cold," Billy shivered, climbing out of the snow bank and brushing snow off of himself. Tank tops were definitely not made for winter weather.

"Mr. Bill, would you like to know how cold it is in the North Pole?"

"No, I would not," Billy replied, and an even bigger pile of snow fell on him, before he did Mr. Bill's catchphrase. "OH NO!"

While Billy was drowning in snow, the entire cast of the play came out onto the stage to do their grand finale. Keeping with the holiday spirit, they all joined hands, rocking back and forth to the tune of the song from earlier and sang.

"The love we found, the love found, the sweetest dream that we ever known. The love we found, the love we found we carry with us so we're never quite alone."

Everyone in the audience, apparently touched by the scene – or maybe just overwhelmingly happy that the play was finally over – began hugging each other and crying.

Chris wasn't spared from the emotional moment.

"Oh, Wesker," he said, giving him a hug.

Wesker punched him out cold, while the Dashers continued stabbing away. "I hate all this touchy-feely crap."

Unfortunately, then Birkin and Marcus began hugging him.

"What the hell?!"

**On the Stage**

The cast took a bow, and Player Carlos stepped forward. "We really hoped you enjoyed our school play, because now we have a surprise for you. It's not over yet."

"WHAT?" the audience screamed collectively.

"Are you serious? There was barely a plot – it can't end until there's a productive plot."

The audience resigned themselves to trying to commit suicide, while the cast sang themselves off in preparation for the next scene.

"Always, I know, you'll be at my show. Watching, waiting, commiserating. Say it ain't so. I will not go. Turn the lights off. Carry me home. Nananananananana…"

INTERMISSION.

-----------

_Well, the play's not quite over – exactly where it's even going, I'm not sure, but I'm formulating a plan. The conversation between the two Muppets in the balcony (there was a shirt with them on it that said 'Old School' that I have to find and buy 'cause I love those guys) was taken from "The Muppets Christmas Carol", the poem was "Song" by John Donne, the song about compliments (horrible, yet funny) was from Home Movies, "Do-Mi-Do Duds" was borrowed from "The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T", the song after that was from the part of "The Muppets…" where Scrooge's girlfriend makes him choose the money or her, Player Birkin's first line was from "Beavis and Butthead do Christmas" (I miss that show), "Marley and Marley" is also from "The Muppets…" (I was on a roll with that movie), the song Marcus sings is Pete Townsend's "Let My Love Open the Door", the song Billy sang is Band-Aid's "Do They Know it's Christmastime?", the "Mr. Bill" thing is from very old Saturday Night Live episodes (I couldn't remember who the hell he was until my best friend had me watch a YouTube of it), and last, but not least, the final song was "All the Small Things" by Blink-182. _

_The dream that Birkin described was the dream I mentioned having earlier – it was very, VERY strange. I love the "Crocodile Dundee" movies, but still… And that wasn't it either – the rest of the dream was me wandering around a castle being attacked by Dashers, while the three kids from Home Movies had me scouting a location for their movie. This is what my dreams are like when I have a fever. Oo_

_Ah, Billy is finally in the story – now I just have another bunch of people to work in. Okay, that's it for this chapter! Everyone have an excellent holiday, leave me a review and let me know what you think!_


	27. Chapter 27

_Hm… It's been over a month since I updated this… Sorry about that – I've been rather moody since New Year's Day, and I just didn't feel like typing. First I got really annoyed, and that lasted for a week. Then I felt okay for one day, and suddenly got really upset completely out of nowhere, and then ended up in tears the week before last at random. Finally I feel alright again. I had the worst mood swings of my life, now I feel like I'm going crazy and I don't know why… Maybe this problem is starting to take a toll on me… Please, God, give me a sign! Ah well, enough of that… Why the hell did a love song come on the radio just now?? Okay, before I sound any weirder…_

_Since I missed the opportunity earlier in the month, happy belated New Years and Kwanza to everybody! Yeah, late, but it still counts._

_I sort of have an idea for what I want to write about – sort of. Heath Ledger's death (I'm rather sad about that) got me on a kick with Batman, because of his role as the Joker in the remake of the next movie – even though I can't picture anyone other than Jack Nicholson as Joker. Joker has always been my favorite villain of all time (sorry, Wesker – Joker was around long before you), followed by Doc Ock from Spider-man who I was thinking of putting in here. Anyway, it led to an idea I had a while ago becoming even weirder, and now I want to use it…And a lot of it has to do with Jonathan Crane (the Scarecrow) from Batman. That guy used to scare the hell out of me when I was a kid, then I totally forgot he existed until I saw Batman Begins when it came out. Now he's one of my favorite villains, even though he is still creepy…Less creepy than he was when I was in pre-school, anyway. _

_-------------_

Chapter Twenty-Seven

"Vera, you've done the impossible. You've done something I haven't been able to do all year long – keep everyone's attention for 35 seconds."

-My 12th grade English teacher, after I had to read an imagery-laden piece I wrote to the class (my group unanimously voted for me to read – apparently what I think is crap, impresses rednecks, gangstas and snobs – no offense to anyone)

**At the Concession Stand (that popped up out of nowhere)**

Leon had been chased around by Saddler for a long, long time, before he finally lost him and set off on his quest to do something stupid. Not that he thought it was stupid himself, but invariably everything he does is pretty retarded. And this was no different.

He walked up to a mysterious concession stand that hadn't been in the auditorium previously, and looked around. No one in sight. "Hello?"

Suddenly the Merchant popped up from behind the stand. "Welcome, stranger!"

"Stranger? You've known me since my terrifying adventure through Spain!"

The Merchant scratched his head. "Doesn't sound familiar." In all reality, he did remember him, he just liked playing stupid.

"Are you serious? Oh whatever. I need… sixty cheese sandwiches."

"Sixty, stranger?" the Merchant said. He knew this guy was like a bottomless pit, but yeesh…

"Yeah. I have to feed a big group of people."

The Merchant shrugged and laughed cheerfully. "What're ya buying?"

"I already told you."

Suddenly a green-haired guy with white face paint and a purple suit who looked a lot like a clown came up to them. "I don't want cheese. I want cotton candy on rye." (Seriously, don't ask).

"Joker, can't you be normal for one second?"

"Normal? I am normal!" he smiled, spraying Leon in the face with a bottle of seltzer water.

Then another guy in a purple suit, who we all know as the Warden of Superjail came over. "I want mystery meat made from cellmates."

The Joker and the Warden stared at each other for a moment, before saying in unison to one another, "You're quite a snappy dresser."

Barry strolled up, looking to land himself another sandwich, and found his friend and a couple of weirdos. "Hey, Leon. What are you doing?"

"Getting sandwiches for everybody."

"Who's everybody?"

"All the people I got together for the show I want to put on about people who have things in common fighting each other."

"Uh… Like who?"

"Well, Joker, the Warden, Jonathan Crane - "

"Wait, wait – you brought Jonathan Crane here?? Why the hell would you bring that vicious psycho here?"

"I need him for the scarecrow group. Besides, Dr. Crane's not that bad. He's just a bit messed up."

"People who are a bit messed up shouldn't be running asylums for the criminally insane. Especially him… Come on, a villain who models himself off a scarecrow? Doesn't that seem stupid to you?"

Just then, Dr. Crane came up carrying his scarecrow mask and humming idly. "What's so stupid about a scarecrow, hm?"

"Uh…" Barry tried to think of anything he could to change the subject. "Did anyone ever tell you that you look something like the front man for All American Rejects? With glasses… and a mask…" Then he added under his breath, "And lipstick."

"Did you just say 'lipstick'?"

Barry noticed Crane toying with a thing full of powder. "Uh… No. I have to go do something." With that, he ran away as fast as he could.

"Where was he going in such a hurry?" Leon asked, looking over to Crane. "Hey, remember what I told you."

"Rock on??" Crane questioned.

"No, before that. I told you not to throw any of that powdered LSD stuff in people's faces while you're here. You can always do that to your patients back home."

"It's not LSD. It's a toxin my men make in the basement of the asylum that we use as medicine."

"Hey, for all I know it could be PCP or crack, or whatever's going around this area. All I know is we don't need anyone having a psychological breakdown and freaking out about seeing a scarecrow because you threw hallucinogenic powder at them."

"Don't worry. I'll abide to the law."

Leon knew that wasn't going to happen within the next million years, but he tried to have some faith in the man. "Great! Now let me introduce you to who you'll be fighting…"

**On the Stage**

The actors had no clue that their school was being overrun by complete psychos and super-villains as they preformed. Nevertheless, they were probably better off not knowing.

Even though Christmas had passed, they were still sort of having fun with the holiday songs. For now, anyway.

The men in black were singing to pass the time while they awaited the arrival of their leader. "Oh, Santa won't come knocking on my door, 'cause he's big, fat whore."

Player Wesker came onto the stage, seeming rather aggravated.

"Is something wrong?" the men in black asked collectively, and he just shook his head.

"I was visited by some… unwanted visitors. But that's not important. What is important, is that we go over some crap to do with security for no apparent reason and bore everyone to death."

**In the Audience**

"That's a fairly accurate statement," Birkin sighed, "I'm amazed no one has expired from the tediousness of this performance."

His wife, who sat a few seats away now to avoid strangling him, was glaring off into space with her arms crossed. "If I ever have to set foot in this God forsaken hellhole again, I will shoot myself in the face."

A guy who happened to be passing stopped in his tracks upon hearing her words. "Suicidal, my dear? Well, I can solve that."

He threw some kind of powder at her, and pulled on a poorly sewn burlap mask that made him resemble Dr. Salvador.

She blinked. "What is your problem, man?!"

"Ooga booga!" he said, waving his hands around. "Come on, you mean to tell me your not hallucinating?"

"No. But if you don't get the hell away from me now, I'm about to kill you."

Crane, deciding it might be better to leave her alone for the moment and avoid getting hurt, slipped away into the crowd somewhere.

"Annette, are you all right?" William asked from three seats away.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine."

She was beginning to feel a little drowsy, actually. She leaned back and closed her eyes, quickly falling asleep.

"It was January 23rd, 2003… The character's of _Street Fighter_ had been cryogenically frozen by General Bison's lab technicians. We had to unfreeze them. At the same time, Travis Tritt, Willy Nelson, George Strait, Rascal Flatts and Toby Keith were busting crime in Shadaloo. They caught Grover from _Sesame Street_ painting graffiti on the walls of buildings and park benches. We unfroze all of them and William led them out of the building as I tried to shut down the security systems. I was caught by one of the guards and thrown into a pit of scorpions, while they played Cookie Monster's "I lost my cookie at the disco" in an attempt to make me lose my sanity. I screamed "scorpions!" until Blanka got me out…"

**On the Stage**

The lights dimmed, and the men in black wandered around in circles, before sitting on the floor and pretending to drift into sleep themselves.

Player Wesker observed them solemnly, and as if he knew things were about to get seriously crazy and weird, he quoted Ra's Al Ghul from _Batman Begins_. "Gentlemen, time to spread the word. And the word is… panic."

--------

_Eh… God, that chapter wasn't exactly a masterpiece… See, I knew I should have forced myself to type during the week, but my mind was tied up with stuff and I didn't feel like it… Well, the next chapter will be A LOT better hopefully. I am going somewhere with Leon's idea and all that, it just didn't quite make it into this chapter. And the song quote the men in black sang was from a song Adam Sandler did on Saturday Night Live years ago that still makes me laugh every time I hear it._

_I do have an idea for the thing with Annette, though I'm not sure where it's going to go exactly – the dream she had when she fell asleep was an actual dream I had in ninth grade and found where I had written it down the other night. Why I dreamed that a bunch of country singers were busting crime is beyond me… I did still watch CMT a lot at the time…_

_Damn, I love that Ra's Al Ghul quote from that movie – there are a few quotes I love from that, but that's my favorite. And it fits well with the weirdness of the next chapter…_

_Well, I'd better go to sleep. I'm supposed to be getting up in four hours. I'll be back very soon with another chapter, so leave me a review and let me know what you think!_


	28. Chapter 28

_Well, here I am again. I almost didn't bother this week, because it hasn't been a very good week. I'm very depressed, sleep-deprived and sick. I came down with some throat/sinus thing that's been going around (I already had a sinus infection and a sore throat both in the last two months) and my throat is starting to feel better, but I still can't sleep… Although I think that might be from my depression, or something. It's not that I can't go to sleep, that's easy enough, but I keep having these weird dreams that make no sense and wake me up (like one where this Bob Funland guy who's in only one episode of Family Guy was working in Wal-mart and kept stalking me). Earlier in the week, they were nightmares that were disturbing for reasons I don't understand – like Wednesday, I woke up, like, three times, went back to sleep with the TV on and could apparently hear it in my sleep, because I had a nightmare where Martha Stewart was following me around talking non-stop about cooking and gardening. Why that bothered me, I don't know, but I woke up with a low fever, in a cold sweat and her show on. Now my dreams are just retarded and complete nonsense, but they don't let me get any rest. Yesterday I woke up feeling a hundred times more tired than I did when I got into bed – that's pretty bad. I don't know what to do about it either…_

_Oh well. My bleak mood has me in the mood to write weird, dark stuff. In this case, I've been slightly inspired by Franz Kafka's "The Metamorphosis" to write a short, but odd chapter. It's a very good story, I'm just still bothered by the fact that the main character's family could treat him that way just because he turned into a giant cockroach – I'd be freaked out, but I wouldn't treat him like dirt. Then again, cockroaches don't bother me… though I've never seen one in person, either. _

_------------_

Chapter Twenty-Eight

"This thing of darkness I acknowledge mine."

- Prospero, Shakespeare's _The Tempest _(that play both touched and scared me)

**In the Audience**

Annette had woken up shortly after her weird dream. Unfortunately for everyone trapped in the auditorium with her, though, that was a horrible occurrence. Being high on the drug that Jonathan Crane had thrown in her face, she wasn't completely in her right mind at the moment…

"I'm Mothra!" she shouted, running around, trampling people who were sitting down and flapping her arms like a retarded bird.

Why some crazy chick was proclaiming that she was a giant moth that saved the world in a very old Japanese/Godzilla-related movie, no one knew. Nor did anyone want to ask.

"I'm Mothra!" she yelled again, and this time, someone yelled back.

"No you're not, moron!"

"Yes, I am! Can't you see my gigantic, colorful wings?"

"No! I see a complete freak with an annoying voice who won't shut up and go away!"

Annette stopped flapping her arms. "Wait… I'm a gobbo?"

Now suddenly convinced that she was a small, brown, furry animal from _Croc 2_ that spoke in high-pitched gibberish and was generally irritating, though cute, she began bouncing around and laughing maniacally.

**On the Stage**

The play was put on hold to accommodate the insistence of Marcus that he needed to talk to the audience about something important, which the District knew from experience wouldn't be important at all, but they let him go on anyway because then the audience would be so annoyed by his presence, that they'd be glad to watch more of the play.

Marcus entered the stage, clearing his throat dramatically, and picking up a microphone.

"As everyone knows, or should know at least, there is a horrible government plan called 'No Child Left Behind'."

The audience seemed rather confused by his statement, not to mention the fact that they had no idea why he was even bringing it up.

"While the government claims that it actually helps the students of this country, it just makes it harder for them to graduate! Essentially, all it did was give them more tests, and tests that were harder. Why? Well… I don't know myself, really, it's just a really stupid idea. Did you know that 1/3rd of each of the last two graduating classes at this school dropped out? It's partly because of the government! … And because a lot of kids refuse to change for gym, can't participate and are then told they can't graduate without the class and drop out. But that's beside the point…"

The audience really wondered whether or not there was a point.

"Why did the government make it harder for kids to graduate? Because we set unrealistic standards on education? Because we're trying to prove something? Because the people in this country are stupid?"

The audience gasped collectively. They were rather offended by that.

"Look at yourselves, people of the mountain and valley! A number of you aren't the brightest crayons in the box, more of you have no idea what the hell I'm even talking about, some of you think interbreeding is okay, and most of you are snobs, drug dealers and couldn't care less about anyone other than yourselves. Very few of you would have the mental capacity to understand what the 'event horizon' is if I actually tried to explain it to you. You're the perfect example!"

The audience was not only extremely indignant at being called stupid and uneducated, they really didn't like where this was going.

"Should the government make it harder for kids to graduate? Isn't that just telling them that they'll never get anywhere in life because they're inadequate and no one cares about their futures?"

The audience had no comment.

"It reminds me of the workers who used to be the backbone of this state… Coal miners!"

The audience was clueless as to what he was talking about now. And as if that wasn't bad enough, he was about to burst into a famous Billy Joel song.

"Well, we're living here in Allentown - "

"Uh… We're not in Allentown. That's about an hour and twenty minutes southwest of here," someone called.

"Then where are we?" he called back.

"Milford, duh."

He thought for a moment, singing to himself quietly. "Hm… I don't care, I'm sticking with Allentown!"

"Whatever."

Marcus began again. "Well, we're living here in Allentown and they're closing all the factories down. Out in Bethlehem, they're killing time filling out forms, standing in line…"

**In the Audience**

Birkin had no clue where his wife had disappeared to. She had been in her seat the last time he looked, and now she was missing.

"I wonder where she got off to," he said to himself, just in time for her to run by shouting 'Ah ooh ooh ah oh'.

"Err… What is she doing? And where did she go?" he asked, getting up and scanning the crowd for her.

**On the Stage**

Surprisingly, the audience was actually enjoying Marcus' rendition of the song. Many people were now holding up lighters and waving them back and forth.

"Well, we're waiting here in Allentown for the Pennsylvania we never found. All the promises our teachers gave, if we work hard, if we behave. So the graduations hang on the wall, but they never really helped us at all. No, they never told us what was real…"

**In the Audience**

William couldn't see where his wife had gone.

"Why is she acting fanatical? Did she finally have a mental breakdown from stress?"

"Who are you talking to, Dad?"

Behind him was Sherry, looking rather disturbed by the fact he'd been talking to himself.

"… No one. Have you seen your mother? She has been acting a bit strange."

"A bit? Didn't you hear her shouting about how there are giant cockroaches running a catering business out of the boy's bathrooms?"

**On the Stage**

Marcus was actually doing pretty well. He should start a Billy Joel tribute band.

"Every child had a pretty good shot to get at least as far as their old man got. But something happened on the way to that place, they threw an American flag in our fa-AAAAACE, oh!"

Suddenly Annette came running onto the stage and roundhouse kicked Marcus in the face. He actually had very little reaction, and just kept singing while she ran around.

She jumped off the stage, raving like a psycho, just to get nailed in the head with a short Dasher (yes, they're still there) from somewhere in the audience. The confused creature grumbled something about humans being complete bastards and ran off brandishing a glowing sword.

Annette rubbed her head, finally free of the effects of the drug. "What the hell happened? And why am I all the way down here?"

Before she could even react, she got dog piled by a group of Dashers who quickly got up and went after Wesker who was trying to keep them at bay with a chair.

"Would you freaks leave me alone?! I could wipe your whole race off the planet if I wanted!"

Annette walked up to him. "Did you throw that thing at me before?"

"So what if I did?"

She grabbed a metal folding chair and smashed him over the head with it so hard that the chair bent at a ninety-degree angle. "Nobody picks a fight with me!"

Just then, William and Sherry came along.

"Annette, what got into you before? You were acting maniacal," William explained.

"Shut the hell up," she responded, clearly in no mood to be bothered.

Up on the stage, Marcus had finished his song, and decided to sing something else. "This next number goes out to my old co-worker Wesker."

"What the hell? Does everyone in the town target me somehow?!" Wesker shouted, now trying to beat a Dasher off of himself with a speaker that had been sitting in front of the stage.

Marcus was still singing surprisingly well for once, and the audience was actually clapping to the tune now. "But if I asked her, I wonder if she would come dancing. Come on, sister, have yourself a ball. Don't be afraid to come dancing, it's only natural."

"Go to hell!" Wesker yelled.

"You put yourself in stupid places. Yes, I think you know it's true. Situations where it's easy to look down on you," Marcus sang in response.

"Or am I origami? Fold it up and just pretend. Demented as the motives in your head!" Wesker sang back.

"Would everyone quit with all the fucking singing for a minute?! My head feels like I got hit by a train!" Annette screamed, but that didn't stop anyone.

"Would you like an aspirin?" William asked his wife, and she threw the bent folding chair at him.

"Why is mom being so… malicious? You were just trying to help."

"It would seem to be a common thing with most persons. It's just human nature."

"Um… Why?"

"I believe that many people take for granted when someone loves them, and it's rather sad. The gift of someone's heart is the most precious gift of all," William said, looking over at Annette.

"What are you looking at?" she asked disagreeably.

As if on cue, Marcus announced, "This next song is for my other ex co-worker's wife, who's in a really bad mood right now."

Annette looked like she was about to become the Incredible Hulk.

"…You might think I'm happy but I'm not gonna be okay… You don't know what it's like to be hurt, to feel lost, to be left out in the dark, to be kicked when you're down, to feel like you've been pushed around, to be on the edge of breaking down and no one's there to save you. No you don't know what it's like. Welcome to my life."

"I hate this place," Annette grumbled.

-----------

_Once again, not the greatest chapter. I need to work during the week, instead of pushing it all off until Friday night. I just haven't felt motivated to do so in a long time. I do know what the next chapter will be about already; sort of, anyway. Hopefully that will be better – I just haven't had my edge lately. And being sad doesn't help either, really._

_The songs in this chapter were "Allentown" by Billy Joel (I was actually planning on going to a college in Bethlehem until I changed my mind after high school about what career I wanted), "Come Dancing" by The Kinks, "Everything to Everyone" by Everclear, "Beautiful Oblivion" by Eve6 and "Welcome to My Life" by Simple Plan._

_With the weird speech Marcus gave, don't ask me where that came from… I wasn't trying to offend anyone, if I did, I was just making an observation about the people in this specific area – which would be Milford (fifteen minutes from where I live) and my town (about five minutes from the Delaware river). My 11th grade geometry teacher hated No Child Left Behind – if you mentioned it, he would rant about if forever. But he did make excellent points. Personally, I wasn't affected by it. I didn't have problems passing the extra state mandated tests and whatnot… But that's just me._

_I realize I didn't put "Act" or "Intermission" in the last chapter – namely since there was really very little play in it. I guess this is sort of an extended intermission – which will probably end next chapter._

_Well, I need to go to sleep. I'll be back sometime soon, hopefully with a funnier chapter, and I'll see you all then. Leave me a review and let me know what you think!_


	29. Chapter 29

_Huh… I sort of lost sight of what I was originally going to do with this chapter… I realize the quality of the plot and humor has been deteriorating – especially since a couple weeks ago – and I'm really sorry about that. It's hard to write comedy when I'm really depressed, and I just haven't been trying as hard. I don't feel much like doing anything right now either. But I'll make an attempt, whether it be good or bad._

_I started reading Goethe's "Faust" last week, and it got me in the mood to write a chapter kinda like the one with all the poetry in it, except with some quotes from that. It's a great play – I'd actually been thinking of reading it for a while, on an impulse I got after hearing a line read on Family Guy. Glad I did, because I really like it. And I can sort of relate to it on some level – although I have no intention of ever adventuring with the devil – especially Gretchen, though I'm not pregnant or being put to death. Oh, her last scene made me cry… Anyway, I'm going for a sort of bizarre Shakespearian-dream-sequence-type thing here, a sort of quick scene to get back into the play a bit._

_------------_

ACT X

Chapter Twenty-Nine

**On the Stage**

The lights were dimmed, and Player Wesker took center stage to address the audience.

"Tell me, someone, are we halting or advancing? All is vaulting, all revolves and swirls and races, crags and trees' distorted faces… And over the trammeled vales whistle and howl the gales. Hear the voices on high, far off and nigh? Yes, all the mountain long surges maniacal magical song!"

He took a seat in the same large chair from the Christmas routine earlier in the play, once again pretending to fall asleep.

This time, though, he opened his eyes to see Dr. Isaacs, who'd come out just a moment earlier, staring at him.

"What do you want?"

"I don't know. Wasn't I supposed to be doing something?" he asked, scratching his head.

"Your job."

"Right. What's your problem? Why do you lounge around and sleep so much?"

"When night descends and I would seek for slumber, then, too, I am not granted rest; I dread to bed me down – wild visions cumber my dreams and make repose unblessed."

"You lost me."

"I can't sleep. Why the hell are you here?"

Dr. Isaacs thought. "Oh, I remember. I want my super zombies back."

"No."

"You bastard."

"Correction. 'Part of that force which would do ever evil, and does ever good'."

Dr. Isaacs, fully aware that the only way to get anything accomplished with this guy was to do it behind his back, turned to leave right when Alice suddenly came running across the stage, tripped and landed on her face. Getting up rather awkwardly, she attempts to seem threatening.

"I'm going to stop you."

"From doing what? We were just talking," Dr. Isaacs replied.

"Your plan, your plan!"

"I didn't really have any plans. Did you, Chancellor?" He looks to Player Wesker, who just shakes his head. "Yeah, we haven't made any plans."

"Then what the hell have you been doing? You're part of an evil corporation!"

"I've been playing God a lot, and he's been bossing people around. How about you?"

"Uh… Well, I've been trying to get this guy I like to notice me, but he ran my head over with a tank instead. I don't think he likes me very much."

Neither of them had any comment.

Then she began to monologue, as the music from _Friday the Thirteenth_ began to play.

"Why, o celestial music, strong and gentle, pursue me where in the dust I grieve? Ring out your notes where men are sentimental. I hear the message, but I can't believe… A lovely longing no one understands drove me to roam in woods and meadowlands, of scalding tears I paid a generous toll as a new world unfolded in my soul… Each morning I awake in desperation, sick unto tears to see begun yet one more day that in it's ambulation will grant me not a single wish, not one."

The two men exchanged weird looks.

"What babble does she mouth before us? I am about to lose my mind. She sounds just like a chorus of a hundred thousand fools combined," Wesker said, and Alice kept going, now speaking of herself in the third person.

"Your lovebird sits and feels downcast in spirit and confined, she is in love head over heels and cannot drive you from her mind… Now she will be serene, more often blue, sometimes shed tear on tear, then be in fair good cheer, and always loving you."

Now they were just getting annoyed.

"Cursed, highest prize of lover's thrall! A curse on faith! A curse on hope! A curse on patience, above all!" Player Wesker shouted.

Then they were joined by a girl wearing a sign that said "Alice Sympathizer".

"What are you doing here?" the two men asked in unison, and she spoke in a nasty tone.

"You don't find this woman's story touching in some way?!"

"Err… No."

"… Yes, stand there, stand! Roll those demon eyes in your head in speechless spite! Stand there and defy me with your unbearable presence! Imprisoned! In unredeemable ruin! Abandoned to evil spirits and to judging, unfeeling mankind! … I am rent to the living core by this single one's suffering: you pass with a carefree grin over the fate of thousands!"

"Are you finished?"

"Save her! Or woe unto you! The most hideous curse upon you for millennia!"

"We cannot loose the avenger's bonds, nor undo his bolts. 'Save her!' who was it that plunged her to her ruin? We or you?" Dr. Isaacs said.

"Come again?"

"What do you expect us to do? It's not our problem."

"Where are the men in black? Have them take this weirdo away!" Player Wesker said, and his companion shrugged.

"The mob is all at daggers drawn, at odds like ice and fire; just on the tootlebag they fawn like beasts on Orpheus' lyre."

"What in hell is a 'tootlebag'?"

"Some old nickname for a bagpipe, I think."

Then, while they were chatting away about the significance of the Orpheus legend, the stage janitor came out and drug the Alice Sympathizer away.

"We're evil. What do we care?" they commented in unison, returning to the topic of lovelorn Alice.

Alice suddenly pointed at Player Wesker accusingly. "He is condemned!"

And a voice from above boomed in reply, "Redeemed!"

Every light in the auditorium went out, and there was a faint clatter of footsteps before they came back on, Player Wesker once again sitting in the chair on the empty stage.

He acted like he was just waking up, and looked around. "…What a strange dream."

INTERMISSION.

----------

_Well, that was weird, to say the least… Very, very, VERY weird. No more dream sequences, I think. The next chapter will be a lot more normal, though I'm not sure right now what it will focus on. I'm sort of confused about how I want to approach the other stuff I had planned for the next chapter or so, and I need to try thinking it out. Sorry the chapter was so short, I really don't have any ideas at the moment. If anybody thinks of anything to suggest, that would actually be very helpful, because my mind's a little caught up in other things. Sigh… Time to hit the hay. Hopefully I'll actually get some rest – these last two weeks have been very hard on me._

_Well, I'll be back soon with more. Leave me a review and let me know what you think!_


	30. Chapter 30

_Sorry for the long delay in updating – I was going to post this last week, but the browser wasn't letting me upload the document. I just really haven't felt like typing… And this really doesn't qualify as much of a chapter – more of a really sad excuse for a narrative about the next couple chapters. I hate to do filler-type stuff, but I don't have the energy to write at the moment… or the motivation. I'll update again soon, and that will be an actual chapter, rather than me doing a poetry slam off the top of my head… Though writing poetry is one of my hobbies. For now, though, this. Also, happy St. Patrick's Day and Easter!_

Chapter Thirty

Announcer: All come, gather round

And listen to this song and sound.

The next few acts will be very strange

Like a psychotic camel with mange.

And while that may seem like the norm,

Believe me, this is odd in a different form.

The plot gets dumber, the acting is the worst;

If you're not careful, it may make your brain burst.

And if you don't believe me, take special care –

You might go bald 'cause you rip out all your hair.

Or, if it's as scary as I predict it will be,

You may be tempted to light yourself up like a Christmas tree.

In people's worst nightmares, things are not as dumb

As this school play's about to become.

Even a creature with an I.Q. of 1

May become disturbed and tempted to run

Because of how stupid some humans can be –

And you know it's going to be _that_ bad, so stop staring at me.

I'll be there, reciting some songs

And scaring the masses out the auditorium in throngs,

And the author comes back, though she said she would not,

To throw pianos at people (and whatever else she's got).

So be sure to read, if you dare,

You know the what, when and where.

Author: Finally, that's over – what a boring affair,

No more of that, I do declare.

This poem's pretty lame,

So shut the hell up announcer – and to the readers, I'll see you all again.

_Heh, though my poetry is usually about social issues (war, etc.) that wasn't bad for something so random. I was trying to get some form of humor in there, except I don't write a lot of humorous poetry – song parodies, yes, poetry, not so much. And in case anyone wonders "lighting yourself up like a Christmas tree" is a reference to electrocution… Don't ask._

_Well, I hope you enjoyed that weird poem. The next chapter (and probably the subsequent one) I'm going to use a lot of misheard song lyrics from a website called AmIRight – I love that site, it's hilarious. _

_Okay, I'm going to hit the hay now, 'cause I'm exhausted. Leave me a review and let me know what you think!_


	31. Chapter 31

_Yikes… It's been a long time since I updated! Too long! Sorry for the extreme delay, I've been having brain-dead moments when it comes to my RE stories lately… For that matter, I've only been updating one thing in the last month, which is kinda sad, seeing as how I love to multitask. I've been having some health issues here and there, and I've now become a narcoleptic because I have trouble sleeping – so now it's hard for me to stay up late and work, 'cause I tend to fall asleep in the middle of doing things. Like last night, I fell asleep while I was pre-writing (something I'm not a big fan of doing, because it takes away from the random humor element in my stories that I get from sitting at the computer and just typing) a chapter of my Naruto story and listening to panpipe music. _

_What am I doing here? Oh, I know – I realize I sort of said this before, but as time goes by I start to feel worse about it; I'm really, really sorry the story has kind of… been lacking in humor… lately. When you feel the way I have for the last several months, you start to act more and more like a zombie than a human being… Which is also why I haven't been updating a lot. I just haven't felt much like writing._

_I originally had no intention of ever doing this in this story again – but I'm making another appearance. Somehow I got this weird idea a while ago that, because I'm feeling so down, I should become a super-villain who hurls pianos at people out of spite, even though they have nothing to do with my dejection. Why pianos? Well, I have been playing the piano since I was really young – I taught myself by listening to songs and matching notes by memory, since I don't read music well. I even know the Ivory Tower theme from "The NeverEnding Story". So, in theory, I'm taking something I enjoy, and trying to kill people with it – that is sort of what super-villains do, after all. The next few chapters will have a very weird music-theme, involving misheard lyrics from a site called AmIRight – trust me, some of them are really bizarre. Hm… I need some inspiration… So maybe I'll do a couple of quick quotes first…_

_Special thanks to The Oracle Dragon, who made the very nice suggestion of Chris trying to get even with Wesker (you'll see what I'm talking about), which I'm hoping I don't completely butcher. And this chapter is dedicated to the memory of my beloved Black Labrador/Golden Retriever mix, Karley (she was actually named after Carly Simons, one of my favorite singers, but I always misspelled her name on purpose 'cause I wanted her to be unique), who's been dead for about a year now, and I still miss everyday. We have had more pets than anyone I know (well, except this woman in my old New Jersey town whose miniature horses I used to take care of – her house was a zoo), and it never gets any easier to see them pass away. _

_--_

Chapter Thirty-One

"Boys," he said slowly, trying to think of some excuse to leave that didn't reveal more of his evil plot. "I don't have time. We have to go… have a meeting… in Mexico… with Ronald McDonald!" – Wesker to a couple of stupid kids in _The Class and The Sandwich_

(I just felt like quoting that… It's weird quoting a story I wrote, but I really love that part – and no, I'm not self-promoting, I just like to read that when I need inspiration… I should really update that…)

"Jill, what happened?" Barry asked as they re-entered the dining room.

"I found a body. Kenneth is dead."

"Casualty of the Human-Tuna war," Brian said and the two looked at him funny, although the other three seemed to get the reference. – _The Class and the Sandwich _(again)

"Dogs know… And that game keeper from Resident Evil." Me on Pedigree dog food

"Fist-fight in front of the brewery… Now if Samuel Adams had been there, it would have been complete!" Me on Pip and Herbert fighting in _Great Expectations_

"I'm a hyper-hypo!" Saturday Night Live skit about a kid with ADD and ADHD from when I was a kid

"I wonder if there's beer on the sun." From the Mystery Science Theater 3000 episode with _The Final Sacrifice_

"Lions and cannibals and bears, oh my!" An old friend of mine from 9th grade, who had an obsession with Hannibal Lector – no wonder we got along so well…

"This is very illegal." What I thought Martin Yan (the Chinese chef) said about a type of oyster sauce

"In Tai cocaine, they don't use marinade." Me on Martin Yan again, this time mishearing the word 'cooking'

"Is it possible to have 4.76 in dimes?" A friend of mine from high school in our 9th grade Algebra class (See? I told you I went to school with a lot of idiots)

ACT XI

**In the Audience**

In a strange turn of events involving a banana peel, a can of Dr. Pepper, the season one DVD set of _Cities of the Underworld _(love that show) and a pair of women's tights, Chris had managed something everyone thought was completely impossible: he used his brain.

But that's not all – he also somehow managed to strap Wesker to one of the seats in the first row. How, no one knows. Not even them. Now we join them, right when Chris is about to reveal his "brilliant" plan of revenge for no particular reason.

"What exactly do you think you're doing, Redfield?" Wesker spat. And I mean literally spat, because he hocked a loogie right in Chris' face. Eww…

Wiping the nasty crap off his face, Chris smiled one of those really retarded smiles you get from people who are dumber than a brick.

"This is my plan for revenge! You keep trying to kill me and all my friends, not to mention you destroy everything you come in contact with and indirectly murder millions of innocent people, so I figured it was high time to get back at you."

"And you're going to do that how?" Wesker was already dubious about Chris' ability to make anyone pay, least of which, someone as accomplished and awesome as him.

"You're going to sit here and watch every second of the play while I laugh at your expense, because I've been informed by a reliable inside source that it's about to get much crappier."

"You know, I don't really _have_ to watch it, I could just close my eyes."

"That's why I'm going to tape your eyes open."

Wow, he really thought this thing out…

**On the Stage…**

A boy wearing a huge sign around his neck, that read "Announcer" on it, came onto the stage and cleared his throat dramatically.

The stage lights dimmed, and a spotlight shone on him, making him seem like a beacon in the dark. Then another guy, dressed like a cat burglar, carrying a stack of giant cue cards ran up the stage steps and positioned himself near the right stage entrance. He held up the first cue card, which read _'Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen'_.

**In the Audience**

"Ooh," Chris said happily, doing the worst dance you can possibly imagine, "I love Queen!"

**On the Stage**

The announcer quickly prepped himself mentally as the music began to play, and started singing.

"Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Open your eyes, look up to the skies and see…"

He pointed towards the ceiling just as Player Wesker jumped down from somewhere above the stage, and nearly landed on him. He then took over playing the piano to the left of the stage.

"I'm just a pork boy in a pork family," the announcer sang.

"It's 'I'm just a poor boy from a poor family'," Player Wesker corrected, and the announcer continued.

"Because I'm easy come easy go, little high, little stoned."

"Little high, little low," Player Wesker grumbled.

"Hit me with a window - "

"Anyway the wind blows!"

"Doesn't really matter to me, to mmmeeeeee." The announcer paused for the piano solo. "Mama just killed a man. Put a butt against his head. Pull my finger, now he's dead - "

"No!"

He tried again. "Mama, just killed a man. Put his guts up to his head. Pulled my trigger, now he's dead - "

"Put a gun up to his head!"

The announcer gave him a sideways glance like he couldn't care less and went on. "Mama, life had just begun. But now I've gone and thrown it all away. Mama, ooh, didn't mean to make you cry - "

"Personally, I don't care what my mother does," Player Wesker said, and a shout of 'Damn straight!', clearly from the real Wesker, was heard.

"If I'm not back again this time tomorrow, carry on, carry on as if nothing really matters…" He paused for another instrumental.

"Too late, my time has come. Sends shivers down my spine, body's aching all the time. Goodbye, everybody, I've got to go. Got to leave you all behind to face the truth. Mama, ooh, make me a cream pie - "

"I don't wanna die!" Player Wesker snapped, and the announcer shrugged, clearly not bothered by his incredibly strange miswordings.

"Sometimes wish I'd never been born at all!" Another instrumental. "I see a little sillouhetto of a man. Scaramouche, Scaramouche, will you do the fandango? Thunderbolt and lightning, very very frightening me! Galileo, galileo, galileo figaro. Manifico! I'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me - "

The thought of nobody loving Wesker was apparently hilarious to Chris, who could be heard laughing hysterically in the audience.

"He's just a poor boy, from a poor family," the men in black started singing backup as they entered the stage.

"Spare him his life from this warm sausage tea - " the announcer continued, this time catching his own mistake. "Sparing his life from his strong sausage tea - "

Someone in the audience screamed. "Quit it with the sausages!"

"Sparing his life for a warm slice of cheese - " the announcer said nastily, not wishing to be interrupted again.

"Spare him his life from this monstrosity," Player Wesker mumbled.

A minute or two of non-misworded singing and instrumentals later…

"Nothing really matters, anyone can see. Nothing really matters, nothing really matters to me."

"Exactly!" Player Wesker added.

"Hit me with the windows…"

"Anyway the wind blows!" Player Wesker shouted, getting up and chasing the announcer around the stage, just to run into an aplty placed gong. The gong sounded, the opening song was over.

Everyone in the audience began clapping, because, surprisingly, they were touched by the bad version of Queen's most famous song (well, except for "We Will Rock You/We Are the Champions", which comes up later).

--

_That was creepy, but very funny – to me, anyway. I love Queen, and apparently so do some of the team members that work on the RE games, because Claire and Chris' clothes tend to have designs from Queen's album covers on them ('Let Me Live'). It's too bad Freddy Mercury died, because he was awesome… Maybe I'll have him make an appearance…_

_As far as misheard lyrics are concerned, those aren't necessarily the funniest ones I picked out for this story – but I did love how people kept hearing 'hit me with a window' in the song, that was funny. If anyone has a band or singer they'd like me to look up and use, tell me and I'll see what I can find. Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Leave me a review and let me know what you think!_


	32. Chapter 32

_Well, at least I'm updating again in less than three months, despite the fact that my mind is perpetually locked on a problem_

_Well, at least I'm updating again in less than three months, despite the fact that my mind is perpetually locked on a problem of mine. I just really wish I hadn't lost so many of my regular reviewers last year when school started… Odds are, they won't be coming back, even though I'm happy with the insane amount of reviews I have, anyway. I just really like feedback – I've spent too much time dealing with people who ignore me completely, don't listen to what I say, etc. and it's driven me really crazy. _

_Anyway, let's see where I end up with this… I have a bunch of other things I want to work on, too, though I doubt I'll get more than two finished. You know, even though this play is based on the movies, maybe I'll have characters in it based on the substitute teachers themselves…Sort of a re-worked version of the film series if it was closer to the games. Also, the plot for this chapter was inspired by my best friend Brit – she had a dream the other night where she inherited a cotton candy factory from her mom, and hired me just in time for me to go all Sweeney Todd on people, and get us into trouble with a dentist (with Wesker as Brit, Birkin as me and Marcus as the dentist). You'll see what I mean – enjoy!_

_--_

Chapter Thirty-Two

ACT XII

**On the Stage**

The announcer was prepping for his next song by gargling water obnoxiously, when the kid dressed like an usher from earlier came out onto the stage and went up to the microphone placed there for him.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I have an announcement to make."

"Isn't that my job, since _I'm_ the _announcer_?" the announcer asked spitefully.

"Shut the fuck up, you asshole," the usher replied, rolling his eyes. "The director of the play has decided to go in a different direction – he now wishes to 'be more true to life' than his movies were, and so a host of new characters will be added to the production. We hope you enjoy the show, and are able to follow along, considering the playbill now has nothing in common with the play it's supposed to describe."

A disturbed murmur went up from the audience. New characters? That couldn't be good.

The usher left the stage, and the announcer glared in his direction as he disappeared behind the curtain and Player Wesker came out.

He stopped in the middle of the stage, and looked to the announcer to start his introduction, while a backdrop of a factory was put in position.

The cue card guy held up a sign that said _'Death on Two Legs by Queen'_.

The announcer sang dramatically. "You're a sewer rat decaying in a cesspool of pride!"

Player Wesker gave him a dirty look.

"Those are the real lyrics," he said, and Player Wesker pretended to care.

"It was a long time ago, I had nothing. No ambition, no future, no life…" Player Wesker said.

"That's a lie!" the real Wesker shouted from his seat, where Chris was laughing at him.

The announcer was given another cue, this time _'Crawling by Linkin Park'_.

"Crawling in my sheep. It's spoons they will not steal!" (AN: I like this one because it makes absolutely no sense)

"Try again," Player Wesker muttered.

"This orange, it will not peel!"

"Crawling in my skin, these wounds they will not heal! Yeesh!" Player Wesker shouted.

The announcer disregarded this, and continued. _'Somewhere I Belong by Linkin Park'._

"And the Vulcan's my own."

"And the fault is my own!" Player Wesker corrected, then continuing his intro. "But I decided to change all that…"

'_Breaking the Habit by Linkin Park'_.

"I don't want to be the one who battles all my shoes - " the announcer said, catching his own mistake. "I don't want to be the one the battles always choose."

Player Wesker shook his head.

"I'm breaking the hobbit tonight!"

"Habit! I'm breaking the _habit_ tonight! Damn, man, can you do anything right?! Why don't you just get the hell out and we'll find someone who can do it correctly?!"

The announcer, obviously offended, replied with _'Faithfully by Journey'_, "I'm forever yours, gracefully - I'm forever yours, tastefully - I'm forever yours, hatefully - "

"I think you mean 'I'm forever yours, faithfully'." Player Wesker seemed unimpressed. "Get out."

As the announcer looked at him with a slightly sad expression, he attempted to quote _'I'll Be Alright Without You by Journey'_. "I'll need a ride without you…"

Player Wesker just continued to stare him down.

'_That's the Same Way by Journey'_. "You're free to leave the key in my pie – you're free to leave the key to my life." He began to walk away, when Player Wesker, unlike the real Wesker would have done, somewhat touched by the cheesy scene, called him back.

' _Oh, Sherrie by Journey'_."I want a cinnamon roll – I mean, should've been gone."

The announcer suddenly seemed really, overly happy, replying with _'Open Arms by Journey'_. "So now I come to you with melted arms - So now I come to you with leprechauns!"

"Don't touch me," Player Wesker responded. "Can we please continue the introduction now?"

The announcer nodded, responding with _'Who's Crying Now? by Journey'_. "One large pizza pie - One love, pizza pie - "

"That's 'one love feeds the fire', and I don't want to know why you just quoted it. Anyway… I was about to give up, when I inherited a cotton candy factory. It was time to straighten up, and get responsible."

'_After the Fall by Journey'. _"Sad songs, sad eyes. Tender ribeyes!"

"Saints or sinners, take no prisoners," he grumbled. "And so I became a business man."

'_Beyond the Realms of Death by Judas Priest'_. "They washed and clothed him and fed him a haaaaaam!"

"For one, that's 'they washed and dressed him, and fed him by haaaaaand', and two, they did not." Player Wesker looked like he wanted to punch the announcer.

'_Don't Stop Believin' by Journey'_. "Smell of wine and cheese perfume - Smell of wine and sheep perfume - I smell of wine and cheap perfume!"

"Drop the 'I' part," he said. "Of course, with all business ventures there are risks, but I was more than ready to face them."

"Some will win, some will lose! Some were born to bring the booze!"

"Some were born to sing the blues, idiot! … And I wasn't one of them."

The kid who had played the ghost of Birkin earlier on during the Christmas part, came out onto the stage and walked up to Player Wesker. "Hey, I heard you inherited a cotton candy factory. I need a job. Can I work for you?"

"Sure," Player Wesker said, inviting him inside.

The stage crew changed the backdrop to a giant painting of candy vats, and whatnot.

"Here, taste this."

Player Birkin tried some of the cotton candy. "Eww, bubblegum! Do you have any other flavors?"

"Watermelon, cherry…"

Player Birkin smiled evilly at the thought of cherry.

Player Wesker left the room, expecting his friend to go to work – which he did, but not quite in the way expected.

Player Birkin stood in the center of the stage, holding a razor and singing _'Breakin' the Law by Judas Priest'_. "So I might as well begin to put a matchbook in my eye – damn it, now I'm doing it! So I might as well begin to put some action in my life."

And then the announcer joined in, forgetting the words as he went. "Pissin' the wall - Rakin' the lawn - Brick in the wall - "

"This isn't Pink Floyd!" someone in the audience shouted.

The announcer ignored them, and kept trying. "Baking the load - Brother-in-law - Breakin' the law! That's it!"

As Player Birkin ushered in a group of tourists, the announcer began to sing _'Floyd the Barber by Nirvana'_, subbing 'Birkin' for 'Floyd'(AN: Kurt Cobain was Nirvana's front man, in case you don't know). "Hello Cobain, come on in! Birkin upturns his Remington!"

"Uh… Bell on door ring, come on in. Birkin observes my hairy chin," Player Birkin took a moment to correct, and then began slashing all the tourist's throats, draining their blood into copper pots, and dumping it into the vat of cherry cotton candy.

"Eww!" the real Birkin was to be heard shouting.

Then Player Birkin left the stage, and Player Wesker returned as a kid came from the other side of the stage.

"I came to pick up my order," he informed Player Wesker.

"I have it right here," he replied, "My employee made it yesterday, so he has today off."

The kid took his order and left.

"The next day," Player Wesker said, "The boy's mother came to see me."

A girl dressed up like a rich woman came out, and walked up to him. "Your cotton candy rotted my son's teeth! You'll be hearing from the dentist!"

She stormed off, and Player Birkin came up alongside of Player Wesker. "Is something wrong?"

"You made the cotton candy yesterday, right?" Player Wesker asked.

"Well, duh. No one else works here."

"What did you put in it?"

"Acid."

Player Wesker ran a hand down his face, as Player Birkin walked over to a vat and pretended to work on its contents and the kid who played ghost Marcus earlier came up.

"I'm the dentist," he said. "Is that the person responsible for destroying my patient's teeth?" He pointed to Player Birkin.

Player Wesker nodded.

"I want you to preform a hit on him." With that, he left.

Player Wesker turned to the audience. "Kill my best friend?" He looked back at him. "Nah."

"And so we joined forces, killing people for the sake of cotton candy!" Player Birkin said, coming over and joining him.

"And we paid the dentist a visit," Player Wesker added.

Then dentist came back over. "What are you doing here?"

The announcer chimed in with _'All Apologies by _Nirvana'. "Tylenol is all we are - Don't talk about Lasagna - Oh no, a Zombie, Ahhh!"

"All in all is all we are," Player Wesker said, quickly annoyed by the misworded version.

"You're going to shoot me, aren't you?" Marcus the dentist asked, and Player Birkin replied with _'Come As You Are by Nirvana'_. "Well, I smell and I don't have a gun… No… And I swear that I don't have a job… No… And I swear that I don't have a gun!"

Then he whipped out his razor, and slashed the dentist's throat.

With his dying breath, Marcus the dentist managed to quote _'Screamin' for Vengeance by Judas Priest'_."Spinnin' round in the toilet, give me vomit breath - "

"Spinnin' round in the torture before the dread!" the announcer corrected, a smug smile on his face.

"And so, we just wasted an hour of your lives with something that will have nothing to do with the rest of the play!" Player Wesker said, and the audience groaned.

They all walked off the stage, singing _'Ask the Lonely by Journey'_, in misworded unison.

"When you're feeling loads of hair, you just ask bologna!"

--

_Needless to say, in Brit's dream I was quite scary… Who would put acid in cotton candy?? But it did make for a weird chapter of my story – I'll have to tell her about it and see if she likes it. This was a very, very weird chapter… All in all, I'm not totally sure what to say about it… And to top it off, I feel like I'm going to puke (not from the story, though). Well, I hope you liked it – and if you have any suggestions for bands you'd like me to look up, suggest away. I'll try to update soon! Leave me a review and let me know what you think!_


	33. Chapter 33

_"The Substitutes" is two years old_

_"The Substitutes" is two years old! Huzzah (okay, I need to stop saying that all the time)!! It turned two just yesterday – yes, I created this story on the fourth of July, 2006. I had nothing to do that day, because my best friend didn't come over, and most of my family was still estranged from us at the time – and I haven't had anything to do on that day since, either. I wanted to buy some fireworks, but I forgot because my life is sort of… meh…right now. But I think I'll still buy some anyway, and just set them off later. People up here set off fireworks starting from the first warm day of the year, right through the early fall – don't ask me why. So, happy birthday to "The Substitutes" and happy fourth of July to everyone who lives in the United States! _

_Anyway, time was against me the last two weeks. The week before last, I had set out to update everything I've neglected since I had a lot of time and nothing to do, and everyday stuff would keep me from doing it. I resolved to change that on Friday. The day started off in my favor, and then, as soon as my mom asked me to help her set up her cellphone (I'm the tech expert of the house), it all went downhill. By the time I finished everything that needed to be done first, I had knocked back a couple of drinks in celebration of my mom's birthday earlier in the week, was tired and completely unmotivated to do much of anything except go to bed so I wouldn't drag my feet in the morning. Then last week, I was really strapped for time every night because I had a lot on my plate for the week… Not to mention I was very tired after carrying a lot of heavy stuff around. So, I'm finally back… But a little uninspired, because I have a lot going on in my head right now. But I should write something special to celebrate the holiday/story's birthday, so let me see what I can think of…_

_--_

Chapter Thirty-Three

"The hunter has become the hunter." Homer Simpson

ACT XIII

**On the Stage**

Three students came out on stage together and stood in the spotlight; a really short kid dressed like Napoleon, a blond kid wearing a red coat with epulets and a blonde girl in a purple dress.

"We're the craziest people that ever lived… Probably, anyway," the short one said. "I am Ramon Salazar."

The Announcer was shown a cue card that said _'That song from the '70s by Leonard Nimoy'_.

"Bilbo, Bilbo Baggins! He's only four feet tall!"

Player Salazar gave the announcer a dirty look.

"I am Alfred Ashford," the blond guy said.

"No one dares pretend to be me!" the real Alfred screamed from somewhere in the audience.

"Shut up!" someone screamed back, and the next thing that could be heard was a fist-fight.

"Anyway…" the announcer said. _'Maggie Mae by The Beatles'_. "Jojo was a man who thought he was a woman but he was a frying pan - "

"I wouldn't bother correcting that line!" Chris shouted from the front row, and Wesker gave him a sideways glance.

"Shut the hell up, you moron."

The blonde girl spoke up. "And I'm Alexia Ashford." Surprisingly, there was no response from the audience.

'_Killer Queen by Queen'_. "She's a Killer Queen gunned down by the guillotine – no wait, grape power smell my beam, no… She's a Killer Queen, goodbye to Jimmy Dean, nope… she's a killer queen, dung pile of cheddar cheese, or she's a Killer Queen got by the Joker team?... Oh, duh! She's a killer queen, gunpowder gelatine! Now what came after that? Gunpowder jeopardy? Oh, Dynamite with a laser beam!

"Oh my God," Player Alexia said, running a hand down her face.

"She keeps a mole and a shovel in her pretty cabinet or she keeps a mower and a shovel in a pretty cabinet or she keeps mowers and handguns in her pretty cabinet - "

"She keeps Moet et Chandon in her pretty cabinet!" Player Alexia shouted, starting to act a bit like the real one.

The teen dressed like the usher came out momentarily. "We're not even close to that part of the play yet… We're supposed to start from the beginning, remember?"

"Oh," the announcer said, watching the three leave the stage behind the usher.

"Um…"

A whole group of teen replaced them, pretending to wander around the stage, which now looked like a field.

One guy, who anyone could recognize as Joseph Frost, was singing _'Blue Da Ba Dee by Eiffel 65'_ horribly, not to mention, with the wrong words.

"I'm blue, I'm in need of a diet - 'Cause I peed on a pie - I'm blue, I go pee, I eat pie - I'm blue, I got beat up and died - I'm blue I peed in the pie - I'm blue I peed and I died - I'm blue, I'm a geek, I'm a guy - I'm blue, I'm diseased, I must die - I'm blue, and I believe I can fly - Double d, dot the 'i' - I peed a blue dye - I'm blue, I just peed out a guy - I'm blue, I will ski in the sky - I'm blue, and I am zipping my fly - I'm blue, I'm in need of some fries - "

"Would you either learn the fucking words or shut the hell up!" Player Wesker screamed at him, and he just looked at him blankly and went back to singing, totally oblivious to the sound of a growling dog nearby.

"I'm blue, I'm made of blueberry pie!"

As if that was some sort of weird – but tasty sounding if you're an animal – signal, a bunch of papier mache Doberman Pinschers covered in fake blood were dropped on Player Joseph, who screamed very unconvincingly.

Everyone ran around the stage, shrieking, and then pretended to run through double doors while the stage crew rolled out the mansion backdrop.

"Oh, poor Joseph," a girl, obviously meant to be Jill, said. "Who will sing his annoying song now?"

"I'm really hungry for a sandwich, but I'll do it," Player Barry replied.

"Hey, where's Chris?" Player Jill asked, and Player Wesker scoffed.

"Who gives a rat's ass?"

"HA!" the real Wesker laughed, "That is _so_ how it should have really happened."

Player Barry started singing terribly. "I'm blue, and I pee out pie - I'm food, I believe I've been fried - I'm food, and I'm stuck to your thigh - I'm glued to this hot apple pie - There's a knee in my thigh - I'm blue, da ba dee, da ba di," he finally started singing the right words.

"Well, at least he sings the right words sometimes, unlike another person." Player Wesker and the announcer exchanged glares.

"Hm, you think Chris is out here?" Player Jill asked, pointing to the double doors, and Player Wesker nodded.

"Sure, why not?"

Player Barry kept singing. "Blue, like my cornbread it's sitting outside - Blue like my toilet it's standing outside - Blue, like my corvette, it's sitting outside."

"Mmm, cornbread," Player Jill said, opening the door just so her head could nearly get bitten off by a dog.

"Why cornbread? I don't like cornbread!" the real Jill shouted.

"SHUT UP!" nearly the entire audience answered – apparently her comment had offended the mix of locals who were from the countryside and enjoyed eating cornbread with chili.

Suddenly, Player Barry started singing _'My Console by Eiffel 65' _for no particular reason. "We're gonna play all day. The playstation of J. Where metal gets shot into chicken feed. Omega boot and Resident Evil. Just play for the fun, 'cuz we've got it goin' on!"

"Uh, that's actually 'we're gonna play the game. The Play Station all day. From Metal Gear Solid to Tekken 3. From Omega Boost to Resident Evil. Just play for the fun, 'cuz we've got it goin' on'," Player Jill corrected.

The rather creepy-looking version of Barry (like Carlos Santana if he got hit by an entire convoy) diregarded what she said, and started yelling the chorus. "P-L-A-Y-S-T-A-T-I-O-N!"

(AN: My dumbass boyfriend in 6th grade apparently couldn't spell 'Playstation', because he asked me what the were spelling out in the chorus of that song.)

"Come on, let's look for Chris," Player Jill said, and Wesker crossed his arms.

"You go ahead. I have something to do."

"Be careful!"

He flipped her the finger as he walked off stage, and the real Wesker laughed his ass off in the first row.

"I wonder if there's a bathroom around here," she said, looking around.

"Let's look for one together!" Barry said happily, and the stage crew changed the backdrop to one of the bathroom in the one corridor of the mansion.

Player Jill walked up to the mirror on the wall, and began looking at herself… while Barry sang his heart out on _'Boogie Wonderland by Earth Wind & Fire'_. "The mirror looks you in the face - The hero hits you in the face - The mirror stares you in the face; ha, got it!"

Just then a zombie snuck up on Jill (how Barry missed it is anyone's guess), and she grabbed it by the collar of the shirt and shoved it's head into the toilet.

"Come on, Barry. This bathroom is dangerous."

The real Barry was kind of disturbed by this scene, so he sought out Jill... By screaming from the other side of the auditorium. "Hey, Jill, am I really that oblivious??"

"Barry, you're the guy who 'investigated' the blood and still didn't seem to realize it was blood!" she shouted, and someone smashed her over the head with a heavy book to shut her up.

Player Barry was so thrilled by Player Jill's handling of the zombie, that he sang _'Fantasy by Earth Wind & Fire' _about it. "Come to see victory in a land called Fantasy. There's a lot of nudity - "

"Come to see victory in a land called Fantasy. Loving life a new degree!" the announcer corrected.

"Take a ride in the sky. Commit infanticide - "

"Wow, that's just horrible. I don't even want to get into that."

"Take a ride in the sky on our ship, Fantasii. There, that better?"

The audience collectively agreed.

"Barry, why do you keep singing weird stuff?" Player Jill asked.

He answered with _'I'll Write a Song for You by Earth Wind & Fire'._ "My magic ho must speak - My magical mystique."

"Uh, right."

They went back out to the main hall, where Player Wesker was nowhere to be found.

"Huh, guess he vaporized," Barry said. "Let's go look in that room over there."

They entered, passing a long dining table, from which Barry picked up a piece of dusty food and began eating it. Before he could sing this time, though, the announcer cut him off with _'Let's Groove by Earth Wind & Fire'._

"Breakfast rolls, getch'a to move - Let this groove, pick up your booze - Let us groove, sift in your shoes - Let this groove, getcha to move!"

"EWW! WHAT IS THAT?!" Player Jill shrieked at a red puddle on the floor.

"Let me look!" Barry replied. "You go check out the next room, while I figure it out."

In the next room, Jill saw something she horribly misinterpreted. "EWW! God, Kenneth, why don't you and your friend there get a room!"

She ran back into the dining room, where Barry was still staring at the blood puddle. "Huh, tastes like cherry Kool-Aid." Suddenly, he stood up and pointed in the direction Jill had come from. "Whoa, what's that?"

Jill turned and looked back at what was so obviously a zombie that it wasn't funny. "Rapist!"

"Should we take him to jail?"

"Nah, just kill him."

So, Barry shot the "rapist" to death. "Jill, you know, you could have helped me shoot it."

"Err… I lost my gun…"

"Every day is rare, don't go unprepared!" he tried to quote _'Mighty Mighty by Earth Wind & Fire'_.

(AN: I like that better than the actual line!)

"Nice try, but it's 'every day is real, don't run from the fear'," the announcer said.

Jill looked at the corpse and sighed. "I bet you this place is full of messed up stuff, like gaint snakes, and things that need to be set on fire."

"All about the seventeen spies - All about the serpentine fire…" Barry said absentmindedly, thinking of _'Serpentine Fire by Eath Wind & Fire'. _"Turpentine fire - Serpentine fire!"

"Barry, you are such an idiot."

--

_As you may have guessed, this was based on the very first Resident Evil… well, in this case, the Director's Cut, because I love the scene in that where Jill is looking in the mirror and the zombie sneaks up on her. It scared me half to death the first time I played that. And it's true – in Resident Evil, no matter which version you play, Barry is sort of an idiot. In some scenes, though, he's even more of an idiot – not to mention, a terrible liar. 'Talking to himself'? Yeah, right. Maybe if he was schizophrenic. _

_As for music, I have a lot of Beatles misheard lyrics – I'm a big Beatles fan. There was more Queen – the 'got by the joker team' one was actually my own; when I first heard that song, I had no clue what he was saying there, and somehow that's what I heard. Eiffel 65 – any of you remember them? They were so popular in this country when I was in 6__th__ grade (when "Blue Da Ba Dee" came out), and that was the only album they ever released… Not to mention the popularity of techno in America died right around then… Personally, I love techno – but I'm also mostly European, so that makes sense. "My Console" was actually a pretty funny song. How many songs are there in the world about playing video games (well, except that "Crank Ryu" thing). Earth Wind & Fire I grew up listening to – I was (and still am) obsessed with "September" as a kid. I might go back and use that… "Fantasy" I had never heard before until I played Grand Theft Auto: Vice City Stories, and it's sort of a funny song on it's own… But that 'commit infanticide' misheard lyric, oh jeez…_

_Eh, not the most inspired chapter. I'm really tired, so I sort of tried to speed through it at some point. Ah well, next chapter will be better. See you next time! Leave me a review and let me know what you think (any any songs/bands you'd like me to use)!_


	34. Note from the Author

Hi All,

It's been soooo many years since I wrote anything for the RE section of FF. In particular, this was one of my best works, albeit narrowly the most popular. I was wondering, should I continue it?

I've already started writing some other RE stuff I have yet to post, but I miss working on this. Mostly, I miss writing about stupid people and personal experiences xD

So what do you think?

Love,

BurningBridges


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